Going Green
by orangestripes66
Summary: Elvis, recycling, and linoleum.
1. chapter one

_Oh hello there friends. This is something brand-spankin' new. First chapter is an introduction of sorts. Leave your thoughts, yes? :)_

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The music is flowing out from under the frail-looking door from down the hallway. I keep walking and realize it's Elvis, _You Ain't Nothin' But A Hound Dog_.

"Cryin' all the time," I mumble to myself and even add in a cursory whistle, just for good measure. Elvis deserves at least that.

The carpet is that ugly carpet that they have commercials for on TV. The pattern is a dark blue and purple and black splattering of some kind of flower. Not a rose, that would be too fancy. It's probably not even a real flower, just a mush of pieces of carpet crammed together. I don't touch it, but I know that if I attempted to, it would feel like sandpaper. I introduce myself to this unfortunate carpet because I will be seeing a lot more of it in the coming future.

But, back to the music. Each step I take down the hall, my foot sliding across my new friend, carpet, the music gets louder. I hear the bass and the drums and the clapping. Elvis makes you want to dance, in that weird way that's not dancing. Part of me wants to drop my many bags and sway my hips, close my eyes, move in some way.

I start to wonder who exactly is listening to this 50's-esque music. I bet my chips on an older lady. The picture in my head has her dancing with her mop in hand, reliving the memories of a lifetime.

3B. That's my door. My home. The Elvis apartment is across and slightly diagonally down the hall from me. There are too many bags for me to open the door and keep hold of them at the same time. So I have to drop them at my feet, my purse's contents spilling all over the ground. Cigarettes. Lighter. Wallet. Kitchen magnets. Hand sanitizer. Rolling papers. Swiss army knife.

I sigh and crunch the bronze key into the hole and turn the handle. A waft of mustiness hits me hard in the face. Although it's not as bad as when I first visited this place. I start to pull my bags inside and I hear Elvis's famous voice die away and a new song start. This one I don't recognize. It's electronic-ish. Pretentious, sort of, with a weird beat.

Fortunately, all of my furniture, what little I had of it, is already inside. There are bunches of brown cardboard boxes scattered around the "living room." If you can call it that. technically, I would call it the "living kitchen", as they are somewhat connected. I like it.

While I had been searching for apartments, the one thing I looked for, needed, was an island of some sort. Either connected to the wall or free-standing. Not a washer and/or dryer. Not a dishwasher. Not even a full bathroom. I needed this island, because I've dreamt my whole life of living in an apartment with one in it. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but the success of my life depends on this one thing.

And there it is, in all it's glory. An off-white linoleum, looking a bit cracked in places. There's two tall stools, thankfully the place came with them.

I remember that my purse is still out in the hallway, all my belongings spread on that ugly carpet, ready to be stolen. I could have my identity stolen. Although I doubt that actually happening.

As I am crouched down, stuffing all my stuff back into my overly large black purse, I hear a door open and footsteps coming my way. When I look up, I am met with another pair of eyes watching me intently, oddly.

"You must be the new neighbor," she says brightly, showing me a line of dazzling white teeth. They're nice. I'm a teeth person.

"That's me. I literally just moved in. Are you the Elvis impersonator?"

The girl chuckles a little bit, showing signs of dimples. "No, no, that's my roommate. She never quits with that crap."

I smirk, willing myself not to tell her off for calling Elvis crap. I'm new and being mean to new neighbors is not the best way to make friends. Plus, she's cute.

The girl picks my purse up from the ground and hands it to me with a smile. "I'm Robin."

I meet her hand with my own. "Ashley," I tell her. "Nice to meet you, neighbor."

Robin smiles at me, and it is then that I notice the smattering of freckles across her face, on the bridge of her nose, and across her cheeks. Red heads have a cuteness about them that cannot be explained.

"So Ashley, do you need help with unpacking or anything?"

I shake my head. "Nah, but I could use a drink, if you have one."

Robin's eyes blink at mine and then she's inviting me inside her apartment with a smile on her face.

Flirting is a sport. You can practice and practice, sure. You might get better, just like with basketball and soccer. Hone in on your technique, work out your muscles. But at the end of the day, things like these require talent. You can't really play basketball and soccer well without talent.

"Spencer turn your annoying music off," Robin yells to the girl who must be her roommate.

"Excuse me? Elvis is not annoying."

"I would have to agree with you," I add in.

At my spoken words, Robin's roommate, a blonde, whose name I have deduced to be _Spencer_, brings her eyes to me and raises an eyebrow.

"Uh, hi stranger in my apartment. Robin?" Spencer looks towards Robin with squinted eyes.

"I'm Ashley. I just moved in down the hall. Robin invited me over." I have this strange urge to explain everything. Why I am here. Where I live. Why I am standing in their apartment.

Spencer looks back to me. "Oh! Well, welcome. I'm Spencer."

"Ashley," I tell the blonde again. "You like Elvis?"

And her face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Love him, actually. Always have, I'm not sure why. It might have been because of my father, he always used to play Elvis before dinner, while he was cooking. He always said Elvis was music for your soul. So I kinda stuck with that…"

And she's talking, still talking. Too much.

Robin hands me a cup of what looks like iced tea with ice cubes in it and shoots me this funny, secret smile. "Look what you did, ugh."

"Oh, sorry," Spencer says, taking a sip of her own drink. It's something in a mug. "I tend to-"

"Overtalk?" Robin interrupts.

"I'm working on it," Spencer adds seriously.

I laugh because this girl is weird.

I smile at Spencer. "No worries. Anyway, I have to go unpack and stuff, but I'll see you two around?" I direct my question towards Robin, and she knows it.

"Yup." Robin nods her head. "Let us know if you need some help. We've got some friends downstairs if you need more people for..hard labor."

I smile at her and walk out of the door slowly. "Definitely."

---


	2. chapter two

I have been digging through my boxes for almost an hour. I am, by far, the worst packer I know. Examples. I have put a few books in the box with a lamp and my microwave. A third of my CD's are in another box with my hairdryer and forks. I stuffed these clay bowls I made in High School in a pillow with the box that has my underwear in it.

This weird Spencer girl has had me thinking about Elvis for almost a whole day now. I'm craving _Jailhouse Rock_ and _All Shook Up_. Now, if I could only find my Elvis CD's and a bottle of wine. Everything would be perfect.

Except for the fact that my apartment is a complete and utter mess. There are pieces of clothing scattered on the floor, laying on my couch which is covered in those packing bubble sheets. My Febreeze has successfully de-germitized the carpet, the couch, and my bed. It is a strange phenomenon, moving. When I had packed up all my belongings into boxes and duffel bags, I felt a pang of sadness. Shelves were cleaned bare, leaving only a few dust-bunnies and other miscellaneous items. Single lost Cheerios, scraps of unused paper, a few broken and crunched Doritos, a plastic cap to a bottle of Diet Pepsi. I felt remorse for leaving these unimportant things behind. Like they weren't worthy of coming with me.

Finally, I find my Elvis collection, handed down to me from my Great Aunt years before I even learned the value or Mr. Presley himself. They are next to my Spice Girls CD, which I was always too stubborn to get rid of, and some mixes from High School. Mixes that were probably hand-crafted by girlfriends and friends past. Now they're in a flimsy box, in a small apartment, hundreds and hundreds of miles away from where they originated.

As far as decorating, I have not made too much progress. I hung up a picture of a grapefruit in the kitchen, put up my shower curtain with the ducks. Fancy decorating and fung shui are not things I am invested in. The sheets of my bed are white, my comforter is black, and my pillow cases have polka dots on them.

Digging through my boxes, I hear a knock at my slightly ajar door in the background.

"Come in!" I yell just loud enough for whoever is there to hear.

"Hey," I hear a familiar voice say. "Thought you might need some help."

When I turn around, I see a red head in loose jeans and a bright green t-shirt. It's neon green, actually, like one of those shirts you might wear while you're jogging so people can see you clearly. The shirt has a half built house on the front.

"Hey," I respond. "I could see you from a mile away."

Robin chuckles as she walks over to me and my posse of boxes. "I know, it's Spencer's actually. She always gets me one when she goes on her trips."

"Trips?"

"Habitat for humanity."

"Ah, I see."

I remember being in college and Habitat for Humanity trips being a big thing. People would go down to the Carolinas and other places and build houses, sleep in church basements. I was tempted to go a couple of times, but it's just not really my thing. Wait, that sounds bad. I like to help people, of course. But the environment was never something I was totally invested in. Sure, cutting down trees isn't cool, but lately it seems like "Going Green" is just a new trend.

Robin helps me unpack some things, puts pillows on my brown couch, finds the lightbulbs for my lamps. I tell her about moving to Philadelphia after taking a year off after graduating college. How I stayed put for a year, working at some boring desk job just to gather enough money to move. After college, I had this idea that my life would be significantly more interesting, more satisfying, that I could finally start living. In contrast, I spent a year being bored. Honestly, I wish I had something more interesting about myself to divulge to my new friend.

"What about you? You live here long?"

Robin nods her head as she wipes the dust off of a picture frame she had just taken out of a box. "Yeah, Philadelphia born and raised-"

"On the playground, is where you spent most of your days?"

A wide smile spreads across her face. "You'd be surprised how many times that has happened to me."

"Interesting. But, keep going, I interrupted you."

"Anyway, went to college here. I just graduated last spring, with Spencer actually. That's how we met."

"Oh?" I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Oh, no," Robin laughs. "No, we're friends, best friends."

I sense a back-story to their relationship, although it doesn't seem like Robin is in a deep emotional sharing mode. After just meeting someone, most people aren't.

"What's her deal?" I try to ask this question lightly, not meaning to insult her best friend. Because that is not my intention.

"You'll get used to her." Is all Robin tells me. "Anyway, Some friends of mine are having a party tonight, if you feel like coming. I don't know if you know anyone but here, but it should be pretty relaxed."

I tell Robin that that sounds pretty good and she gives me the address. After she leaves, I feel content in having made a new friend. And after having talked to the girl for a while, I feel purely friendship-like feelings for her. She's cute in a natural way, and easy-going enough that I don't feel like I have to try hard with her. My inability to be only friends with girls allows me to cherish the ones who seem to have the potential for friendship.

Later that afternoon, after I have found my toothbrush and toothpaste and realized that I need to buy shampoo and conditioner and essential things like those, there is a knock at my door.

"Hi Ashley," Spencer says when I open my door.

"Hey. Spencer."

Her eyes look brighter today, more sparkly blue, and standing this close to her I realize just how blue they are.

"I just wanted to give you this," she says and hold up a large green bucket with white arrows on it. "I'm trying to get this environmental coalition group going for the building, mostly I'm trying to have every apartment recycle, or at least have the means to. Bottles, bottle caps, which need to be separated. Also, if you have newspapers there's a box down the hall you can drop them into."

"Are you the environmental police?" I ask her with a smile on my face as I take the bucket from her.

Spencer rolls her eyes and smiles, and I'm glad she's taking teasing from a stranger so lightly. "Sorta. I'm a tree-hugger, I will tell you that."

"Already assumed," I say seriously.

Spencer smiles, and I immediately like her better than when I first met her. When people are able to laugh at themselves, go along with teasing, it's attractive. And not _I wanna sex you up_ attractive. Just attractive as a personality trait in general.

There is this moment, when Spencer is standing in my doorway, leaning against the old wood, and I am tapping my fingers against my intentionally-worn jeans. There is this hesitance for her to leave, and it's awkward.

"Uh well, guess I'll see you later," Spencer says quickly. And I nod, closing the door and going back to my many boxes.

Hello first awkward moment with someone I just met.

---


	3. chapter three

_Thank you everybody. :)_

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Washington Square West, around the Pine Street area, is where I find myself. It's not too far from my new apartment. Also known as "The Gayborhood" is where this relaxed party is taking place. Robin had only given me the address and a smile, no time.

I figure around ten o'clock is a good time to arrive. Walking up to the door, I appreciate the rainbow flag sticker next to the peephole. I continually adjust my loose vest, which is placed over a royal blue t-shirt. My fingers put the buttons of my vest in and out of their respective holes as I knock on the door. Usually, I wouldn't be this nervous about going to a party. I am, by nature, a pretty social creature. But knowing essentially no one puts a cap on that.

It is only after I have knocked that I hear the music coming from inside, probably making it difficult for anyone inside to hear a knock at the door. There's heavy bass beat flowing out of the door, so I just let myself in.

It's dark. And it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to this new darkness. There aren't an overwhelming amount of people inside, which I am partly thankful for. But there's a good amount, and most of them are dancing, moving up and down and side to side with the song playing, which is so instantly catchy I make a reminder to ask the host what it is. Even if party and dance music isn't your thing, it always has an effect on people.

The apartment is sitting in a very thin layer of smoke. I deduce instantly that it's not cigarette smoke, but weed. I try to move around bodies who are dancing, making out, pushed up against walls. I'm feeling more relaxed already. I almost bump into two girls who are making out heavily, one of them wearing a rainbow bandana. Robin is across the room, engaged in a conversation with some tall, dark-haired guy. When I am close to her, I see her head turn in my direction and she spots me.

"Ashley!" She exclaims rather loudly over the music.

I give her a cool-guy head nod, and when I am next to her, she gives me a tight, but short, hug.

"I wasn't sure whether our friendship level was high enough for a hug, but booze blurred that line," she says with a smile. And I genuinely chuckle.

"Not a problem. I'm glad you initiated it."

"Well good. Oh, this is the host."

Robin turns my attention to the guy she had just been talking to. His dark hair is styled into a fashionable faux-hawk and he has kind eyes.

"Aiden," the guy says, shaking my hand. "Robin tells me you're new-ish." Aiden states this, doesn't ask.

"I just moved in. I thought I'd come meet some people," I say, smiling at him.

Aiden smiles wide. "Cool. Help yourself to beer or whatever, it's in the fridge."

Just as I am about to thank him, another person walks over to Aiden, Robin, and I. He puts a hand on Aiden's shoulder. "Who's this?" He has blonde, shaggy hair, and reminds me a little bit of a happy labrador retriever.

"Ashley," I tell him.

"Ashley, hmm," he raises an eyebrow. "Nice to meet you sweetheart. I'm Court." He then turns to Aiden. "There's a situation in the bathroom, Aid."

Aiden and Court excuse themselves, and I am left with Robin. "Are they together?" I ask her.

Robin chuckles and shakes her head. "No, Aiden's straight, Court is just his roommate. Court's boyfriend is here somewhere, I'm just not sure where." Her eyes scan the room for a second, until she gives up and they land back on my own.

"I'm gunna grab a beer," I tell Robin.

She smiles at me before I make my way to the kitchen. The door to the fridge is slightly ajar and a blonde, with a very nice ass might I add, is standing in front of it. When she turns around, she has two beers in her hand.

"You psychic?" I ask Spencer with a small smile on my face as I move towards the fridge.

"Not usually," Spencer says seriously, but I see her eyes glint. "I'd give you one, but these are both for me."

I chuckle. "What, you don't share?"

The beer I grab is incredibly cold in my hand, and the tab is just waiting to be popped open. There's nothing like a cheap, cold beer to start your night off. I follow Spencer's lead and grab another, for later. College partying has taught me to take advantage of the beer when it's available. The fact that I'm over twenty-one and can easily go out and get more is irrelevant. Party mode doesn't care about age.

"Neither do you, obviously," Spencer says as she sips one of her own beers. "I didn't know you were stopping by."

I shrug. "That's confirmation that you're definitely not psychic, then."

"You're a smart ass. You like the apartment?"

I blink at her ability to insult me and then ask a normal question. It's a little…charming. "I do. I'm fan of the rainbow paraphernalia."

"As am I. Welcome to the Gayborhood, baby." She says this and I am pretty sure that right before she walks away, she winks at me. My eyes follow her body out of the kitchen and she disappears into the other room.

I spend a little bit of time talking to random strangers who become something more than strangers after a few minutes of conversation. Aiden explains that there was a raccoon outside the bathroom window, which turns out to be the bathroom situation Court was talking about. I assumed the situation would be more like people having sex in there or engaging in another kind of sexual activity. When I say this, Aiden laughs and says that that definitely does not warrant a "situation" because it's more like a normal occurrence. I enjoy him.

"You know," I start to say to Aiden, "I was a little disappointed to find out Court's not your special someone."

Aiden laughs and runs a hand through his hair. "A lot of people say that. Court's a good looking guy. But what can I say, I love women."

I would have to agree with him on that one. "Don't we all. Thanks for having me, by the way."

"No problem. Any friend of Robin and Spencer's is a friend of mine."

"Have you know each other for long?" I finish my second beer and feel the urge to go get a couple more.

"Yeah, actually. Robin and I have been tight since High School, and I met Spencer when they went to college together."

"By tight, you mean we were _boyfriend-girlfriend_," Robin says as she walks up to me and Aiden.

I laugh. "No way."

"True story," Aiden admits. "But then along came Spencer and Robin here switched teams."

I raise my eyebrow and smirk at Robin. I knew it. "That's interesting."

Robin shrugs. "It's all good."

"Can't blame a girl though," Aiden adds as he gulps down the rest of whatever was in his glass. "I'm pretty hot, but Spencer might be a little hotter."

"A little?" Robin laughs.

Aiden rolls his eyes. "Fuck you, Robin."

"Not anymore babe, sorry."

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and find Spencer holding a beer out to me. "I had a feeling you were in the mood for another."

I graciously take the chilled beer from her hand, which is equally as cold. "I knew you were psychic."

Spencer shrugs. "Actually, I think my uncle of my mother's side was a psychic, although my mom will just tell you that he's crazy."

--

My buzz is pretty high up there and I'm feeling pretty good. Actually, besides the fact that I'm a little hot, I'm feeling great. I have no idea what time it is, I lost track after I started to dance with Aiden and was introduced to Court's boyfriend, a cute ginger named Blake. Part of me wants to find out where the strong aroma of weed is coming from, but I decide not to because whenever I mix and match it never turns out well.

After going to the bathroom and emptying my bladder which was about to explode, I find Spencer near a window with a joint in her hand.

"So you _really_ go green, huh," I say.

She turns around, and I notice that the cardigan she was wearing earlier is no longer there. Spencer is left in a tight black tank top. For reasons I cannot explain, my eyes quickly scan her upper body. I blame it on my beers. Sly bastards.

"It's good for you," Spencer tries to say seriously, but I see the corners of her lips start to turn up.

"Not a dancer?"

I catch Spencer's eyes look me up and down. I am caught off guard by how insanely sexy that small action is coming from her.

"No, I like dancing. I've been dancing a little bit tonight, I guess you just didn't notice. Although this joint pulled my attention from the dance floor."

"Fair enough."

When my eyes move over Spencer's shoulders, I see Robin talking to a girl I have not met yet. Robin motions my way, and they both glance over at me and Spencer. Then Robin and the mystery girl are walking over here.

Robin hits Spencer hard on the back. "I think you like the environment way too much."

Spencer holds her joint up. "The environment is sacred. You should start to appreciate it more, my friend." The she takes another puff and starts to laugh a little.

Robin rolls her eyes. "Anyway. Oh, Ashley. This is my friend, Bailey."

I notice the girl Robin has brought over for the first time tonight. She's just, gorgeous. And when I shake her hand, I open and close my mouth, forgetting what I was going to say.

"I've heard a lot about you, Ashley," Bailey says with a small smile.

Bailey looks like she's permanently, naturally tan, and I can see toned muscles where smooth skin is exposed. Her eyes are bright, and look just like caramel. "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

Spencer just gives Bailey a cursory smile, and turns to say something to Robin.

My eyes check Bailey out before I can stop them, and I bite my lip. "Wanna dance?"

"Sure," she says with an easy smile.

It's not too awkward at first, even though dancing with someone you just met for the first time can be. I'm feeling good about initiating the first contact, so I lightly put my hands on her hips. Bailey is just wearing a plain purple t-shirt, and the jean skirt that's hanging off her slender hips is short and fraying at the hem.

"You like the neighborhood so far?" She asks me as we continue to get closer and dance closer. Closer.

I move my head near hers so she can hear me. My eyes look into hers and I see her caramel colored ones dart down to my lips and then back up. "I like it a lot."

---


	4. chapter four

"So, who are you, Ashley."

It's dark outside, the sky is that kind of black that makes you feel a little nervous. That black like the eyeliner boys in those bands wear. The only thing illuminating Bailey and myself is the slight yellow-ish glow of the streetlights. They're dull, and a couple of them are flickering, like they can't decide if they should stay on or not. Indecisive.

Looking over at Bailey, I see her staring straight ahead. She's taking slow and easy steps like I am, hands in the pockets of her blue hoodie with a zipper in the front. _Who am I. _I think about her question for a few moments, playing it over and over in my head. Have you ever had to really think when someone asks you that question? Because, this may sound pretentious and overly philosophical of me, but does anyone _really_ know who they are? It's not like anyone else would know who you are.

Her "simple" question takes me off guard.

"Damn, such a loaded question, Bailey." I tell her with a chuckle. The chuckle is designed to cover up whatever weird feeling I'm having.

She finally looks at me and there's a small smile adorning her nice lips. "I didn't mean for it to be. Alright, we'll start simple. What are you doing in Philadelphia?"

This, I can answer. "Well," I start, "I just took a year off after graduating college. Saved up some money, decided to move over here and try to find a job in a gallery."

"Oh yeah? That's cool. I'm actually doing an internship in a gallery not too far from here. I could talk to someone if you want?"

"That'd be super sweet of you, actually."

After a couple more minutes of light conversation and walking, we arrive at the door to my apartment building. There is a stoop outside, and we both take a seat on the cold stone steps. Bailey is wearing these cute purple Converse that match her t-shirt. They make me smile a little bit. She is definitely sexy, but her kind of innocence makes her adorable.

"I had a good time with you," Bailey says softly, wrapping her arms around her body. It has suddenly gotten a little chilly outside.

"Yeah me too, it was nice meeting you. I'm glad I ended up going." I try to secretly move my body closer to hers. I mean, for body warmth, because that's important. "Well, you know where I live, so if you ever wanna stop by, you're welcome to." I give her a smile to accompany my smooth words.

Bailey smirks, and she's back to being sexy. Her head moves towards mine and then she's whispering something. "Definitely Ashley." With a soft kiss to my cheek, she's gone, walking down the street.

---

Ten o'clock in the morning is not the right time to get out of bed on a Saturday. In my opinion. I am curled up in my sheets and under my comforter. A hangover is not the right world to express how I'm feeling, I wasn't exactly drunk last night. But as I'm just lying in my bed, I feel that…_grimy_ feeling you sometimes have when you drink the night before. Your teeth feel like they need to be brushed this very second, your face is bothering you and needs to be washed with some strong soap. Ideally, I just want a shower and some coffee.

The knocking that had woken me in the first place eventually dies out after a minute, and whoever was there goes away.

When I roll out of bed, I pull on a very worn High School sweatshirt and slip my feet, covered with striped socks, into my favorite slippers. Deciding to skip the shower for the time being, I brush my teeth, wash my face, and shuffle into my kitchen to make some coffee. My kitchen is still an unfinished decorating project. The counter is littered with a few utensils, including chopsticks from Chinese take-out. The only important thing here is my coffee maker, which is essential for my survival.

It seems like the person knocking had an agenda, and they slipped that agenda under my door in the form of a flyer. I roll my eyes but smile when I read the bright, neon green flyer for a meeting about the Environmental Coalition for the building. This has Spencer written all over it. The flyer has a bunch of trees, that recycling sign with the white arrows, and a stick figure with long hair and an obnoxious smile on her face.

After brewing my coffee, I realize I don't have any sugar. Or milk. Actually, I realize all I have in my fridge is a bottle of wine and in my freezer all I have is an empty tray of ice cubes and some frozen waffles. That's sad.

"Hey," I say to Robin after she opens her door. Robin is wearing a pair of charcoal sweatpants, a large pink t-shirt, and her hair is up in a ponytail with a white bandana tied on top. She looks cute and like he just woke up.

"Ashley, what's up?"

I smile at her. "This is going to sound very…old maid of me, but do you have any sugar?"

Robin laughs and ushers me inside the apartment. I see Spencer sitting on the couch talking on her cell phone. She gives me a nod as I follow Robin into their small kitchen area. The layout of their apartment is similar to my own, except I'm guessing they have two bedrooms instead of my one.

"Nobody's ever asked me for sugar before." Robin chuckles after she says this, probably realizing how flirty it sounded.

"Well today's your lucky day. Oh, and while you're at it, do you guys have any milk?"

"Sounds like you needa go grocery shopping."

"So do we." I hear Spencer say as she appears beside me, leaning against the counter. Her hair is in a loose bun and unlike Robin, she's wearing jeans and sweater, like she's been up for hours. "Did you get my flyer?"

I nod and smirk. "Yeah, thanks for waking me up at the crack of dawn.

Spencer rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "Ten o'clock is hardly the crack of dawn, Ashley. What can I say, I'm definitely a morning person. And a night person. I guess I'm just a person, then."

"What a profound statement Spence," Robin retorts as she hands me a bowl of sugar and the carton of milk from her fridge. She's obviously just teasing, and she gives Spencer a quick kiss to the cheek before going back into the living room.

"So you gunna go? The meeting's tonight. It won't be that long." Spencer takes a sip of what looks like tea from a mug.

I shrug. "I'll think about it. I need to go grocery shopping."

"You should come with us, then," Robin says. "We're going soon, you're welcome to come along. But I can't promise it'll be a short trip. Spencer takes forever shopping."

"There's a lot of choices, okay?" Spencer glares at Robin. "Plus, it's hard to find environmentally friendly products. Everything is packaged in plastic."

"And, I'm guessing you're…not a fan of plastic?" I mumble in Spencer's direction, just loud enough for her to hear me.

"Not particularly, no. Smart ass."

--

Robin was entirely correct. Spencer takes forever in the grocery store. I think she has looked at every single thing in the aisle we are now in. I hadn't made a list, I like to spontaneously grocery shop. It makes it more entertaining. I have gotten the essentials: shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, deodorant, gum, hot sauce, Oreos, some bars of cheese, kiwis, and eggs. As we walk the aisles though, anything that seems interesting, I pick up and put into my cart. I am especially excited about the half a chicken I have.

"So, you and Bailey seemed to get along well enough," Robin says to me as she inspects a grapefruit.

I smile. "Yeah, she seems really sweet and-"

"Absolutely gorgeous?" Robin interrupts.

"That also."

"She's alright," Spencer murmurs as she bumps her cart into the back of my legs. I see Robin roll her eyes, and I'm curious.

"Why are you so bitter, bud?" I ask Spencer and chuckle. "You two used to go out or something." Spencer gives me a look, her blue eyes not straying away from mine, and Robin coughs to so obviously cover a laugh. "Oooooh, you two used to go out or something."

"We were together for a little bit, sure." Spencer does air quotes when she says the word _together_.

"I'm confused by your usage of the air quotes," I say seriously.

Spencer rolls her eyes. "I just thought that was an appropriate place to use them. Yes we were together, but not for long."

"So," I start. "Is this the same kind of _together_ you and Robin were involved in?" This time, I use air quotes around the same word.

Instead of being serious or angry at my nosiness, both Robin and Spencer look at each other and start to laugh.

"The fact that me and Robin used to fuck is quite different," Spencer says seriously. And I'm surprised by her bluntness and use of the word _fuck_. It sounds strange coming from her, but my eyes survey her from her feet up to where her eyes meet mine. She raises and eyebrow. "Sorry, used to _have sex_," she corrects herself with a smirk.

I shrug. "Whatever floats your boat."

--

I end up going to that meeting that Spencer is having for the building, the Environmental Coalition one. It's held in the basement of our building, in this pretty sketchy room where I can hear water dripping from pipes and it's darker than it needs to be. The meeting itself is short, mostly because it is just Spencer rambling on for about half an hour.

Afterwards, Spencer and I are walking back upstairs.

"That was…interesting," I tell her.

"Yeah, well since you're new, you owe a hundred dollars to the Coalition. Thanks for that."

I turn to her with wide eyes. "What?"

Spencer smirks. "I'm just kidding. But I saw you separated your plastic bottles and bottle caps. So, on behalf of the environment, thank you."

I shake my head and smile as we walk down our hall. "You're like, really strange."

"So I've been told," Spencer says. "Sometimes strange is a necessity of life." We pause at her door, and right as I'm about to say goodbye, Spencer adds a question. "You wanna hang out or something?"

I look at her door and then back to mine. My eyes come back to Spencer's blue ones, and they're very pretty. They're brighter blue than I had noticed them to be. "Sure, why not."

* * *

_(Your loveliness is quite smile-inducing ;) )_


	5. chapter five

_I appreciate all reviews, story/author alerts, and story/author favorites. Thanks!  
(Thanks for boosting my ego, baby :) Just kidding. You're as cute as delicious orange Peeps.) _

* * *

Spencer's room is quite the mess. And when I say mess, I really mean _mess_. I have no idea what color her carpet is, and I'm not sure I want to know. This girl has about a hundred pairs of jeans and they're all lying on top of the futon against the wall. Every shade you can imagine.

"My weakness is denim," Spencer says as she tries to gather an armful and throw them, literally throw them, into her closet.

"I could tell," I chuckle.

The futon she has in her room is a dark blue color, and once all the demin in the world is moved, it's actually really nice. There's a small table with a lamp on it next to the futon, and the cushions looks especially comfortable. Once I scan the room again, I see a bunch of boxes lined up against the other side of the wall, by the closet. Their tops are closed, and I am curious to know what's in them.

"Did you just move in?"

Spencer furrows her eyebrows, then turns her head to where my eyes are situated. "Oh, no. I keep my records in there cause there's really no where else to keep them safely."

"Records? That's cool, are they all filled with them?"

Spencer walks over to the boxes and opens the top of one. When she bends down, her sweater rides up a little bit, and right on her hip I see a small tattoo. I don't see it long enough to determine what exactly it is.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Actually, I got most of my collection from my grandfather right before and after he died. Some of them are broken but most of them are in pretty good shape. He was an Elvis and Frank Sinatra fan, so the majority of the vinyl I have are those. I do have a phonograph…if you wanna listen?"

Well, that explains the Elvis then. "Definitely." I start to sift through the piles of records. Some look really old, so I try not to harm them. I hear Spencer shuffling around behind me, and then I smell the distinct sense of incense fill the room and my nostrils.

And suddenly, this is all sexier than I realized. Spencer's room is…intimate, and the incense makes my head feel intense. Plus, the dimness of the bedroom makes everything else kind of glow. Especially Spencer herself, as she begins to look for a record with me.

"In the mood for anything in particular?" Spencer asks me, pushing a piece of blonde hair behind her ear.

I meet her eyes. "I'm thinking Presley."

---

Sitting on the blue futon, my body has sunk down into it, into the depths where there might be lost remote controls, Cheetos of all shapes and sizes, hair bands and brightly colored clips, maybe even a fork or a spoon. I imagine all the crap that lies beneath me, then the fluffy, cushiony mess of the inside of the futon, being held together by the outer blue stitching.

My eyes are a little bit squinted, from the smokiness of Spencer's room. It's not overwhelming, just a thin layer like there was at the party. I wonder briefly if there is a window open, or if the fire alarm is covered over with a piece of paper and duct tape. And old school trick used when we used to smoke weed in our dorm rooms.

I don't even notice that my fingers are tapping my leg, or that I'm turned towards Spencer, who is on the other side of the futon turned towards me. We've been listening to her phonograph, the majority being played has been Elvis, for probably over an hour straight. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a very bright moon glowing through the partially blind-covered window.

Spencer takes a last sip of the mug she had been holding earlier just as the beginning of Elvis' _Love Me Tender_ starts.

"You know," Spencer says, then coughs a little bit, then starts again. "Elvis Presley was a good lookin' guy when he was younger."

I nod. "He definitely was. You know, shit comes and goes, but Elvis is forever."

Spencer stares at me and then starts to laugh. "That's very deep, Ashley."

Shrugging, I answer her. "It's true." Spencer bends down to grab a water bottle, and I see that small tattoo on her hip again. My eyes attach to it, mesmerized by how perfectly real it looks. How extremely sexy it is. "I didn't know you had a tattoo."

Her hand goes to her hip, immediately touching the tattoo I speak of. "Oh, yeah. I got it a while ago, when I was nineteen or so."

"Impulse?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, I thought about it for a while. I mean, the whole _idea_ of the tattoo was an impulse in general, more like rebellion, I'd say."

I move my body a little closer to her to inspect the ink that's laying on her perfectly smooth skin. "What is it?" I whisper, like talking louder would interrupt some kind of monumental moment.

"An infinity sign," Spencer says slowly. And then I see how the bold, black lines form a kind of figure eight. "It's not in relation to anything specific. Just a reminder that some things can last forever, for infinity."

I lightly rest my finger over it, and trace the loops of the ink. Spencer jumps slightly at my initial touch, but then she relaxes. My head is bent down, and I sense her watching me from above.

"That's really cool," I say finally, bringing my head up from looking at her tattoo. My hand, though, is still touching her. Somehow my finger is glued to her hip. "It's really sexy," I mumble quietly.

Spencer's blue eyes just lock onto mine. She's not smirking, or smiling, just watching my brown ones. And it is in this moment I realize just how beautiful this girl is. Her eyes have this sparkly blue thing in them, these swirls that kind of circle her eye. That combined with the flawlessness of her skin makes me wonder why I hadn't realized these things before.

Then, her record player starts to skip, Elvis' deep voice blurting out the same word over and over again. My eyes snap over to where it is, and Spencer slowly gets up to fix it.

---

It is now the night after I hung out with Spencer, and I am getting ready for my date with Bailey. Getting her number was easy, calling her was easier, and asking her out was simple. What is not easy is figuring out why I am suddenly feeling weird.

I haven't seen Spencer since I left her and Robin's apartment that night. She wasn't in the laundry room when I went to clean my socks and underwear, she wasn't out in the hall when I went to drop my newspapers into the recycling box, and she wasn't in the lobby when I retrieved my mail, which included only an L.L. Bean magazine and a bill addressed to Patsy Lovecraft. I am not Patsy Lovecraft.

So I am fixing the collar of my white polo and waiting for Bailey to buzz and say she's downstairs. My hair is being especially obnoxious this evening, the curls won't stay in control and my bangs are just not falling into the place where they belong. I give up and tell my hair to _fuck off_ just as I hear my buzzer go off.

When I make my way downstairs, I see Bailey standing right on the steps, head tilted up towards the apartment building. Her eyes find mine when I come out of the door and they smile at me. She looks adorable in this striped cardigan and her pants are a light grayish color.

"Hey there." I smile at her as she gives me a short, but tight hug hello.

"Hi Ashley." Bailey's smile is wide, and her teeth are nice and white.

"You smell really good," I laugh when I say this, rolling my eyes at the stupidity.

Bailey and I make our way up and down a few streets in the neighborhood, looking for an interesting café to go into. When we find one, I make sure to order the drink and whatever pastry she wants. Even though she fights me on paying, she loses.

"Well then I owe you," Bailey smirks, taking a seat on a large, comfortable couch by a window. It kind of reminds me of Spencer's, even though it's not blue.

"Fine," I say. "You can pay next time."

"Oh yeah, next time?" Bailey smiles, leaning back into the couch.

"We'll see," I murmur, but throw the pretty girl next to me a smile.

During our conversation, I find out that Bailey has two older brothers living in Philadelphia. And after she graduates college this year she'll probably move in with one of them. I also find out that Bailey and Robin have been friends for a while. Spencer, though, is not mentioned. And I am _so_ not going to pry into that territory.

Bailey's hand touches my knee lightly when she leans over to get her cupcake, and whether she means to or not, it kind of slides halfway up my leg when she leans back. I don't think she notices, because she's just innocently eating her cupcake. She looks cute eating her cupcake.

After a while, we decide to leave the café and walk around a little bit before going home. It's a little late, and Bailey has work in the morning.

"You should stop by," She tells me. "At least take a look at the gallery, I'll ask around to see if anyone is hiring."

"Sounds like a plan." I smile in her direction, and squeeze her hand, which is currently being held in mine.

When we make it up to my floor and stop right outside of my door, I lean against it.

"You didn't have to come all the way up," I tell Bailey quietly as I push some of her hair behind an ear with my hand.

Her eyes blink slowly and she takes a small step towards me. "I just wanted to make sure you were all safe."

I smirk, my eyes dropping to watch her lips. "I'm a big girl."

Bailey raises an eyebrow, and then we're kissing. I briefly wonder if this is strange for her, being on this floor, in this building, when she used to go out with Spencer, who lives right across the hall. But then I tell myself to stop thinking about Spencer.

When Bailey pulls away, I am pushed up against my door lightly, and her entire body is very close to touching mine.

I can't help myself. "You really have work tomorrow morning?"

Bailey shoves my shoulder a little bit and smiles. "Yes."

"Just making sure," I say, and then kiss her softly one more time.

We say goodnight and Bailey makes her way down the hall way. Right as she's almost at the end, Spencer comes out of her apartment to put some newspapers into the recycling. Her head watches Bailey exit into the stairwell, and then it turns to me and how I'm leaning against my barely cracked open door.

"Hey. Spencer," I say, and give her a small smile.

Spencer nods at me. "Hey." And then she goes back into her apartment. But not before I notice the short shorts she is wearing.

I roll my eyes and go into my apartment.

---


	6. chapter six

_Just a note to take...notice of. I changed the name of the story from 'Brink of Livelihood' to 'Going Green'. This one feels better. I hope that doesn't cause any confusion.  
Here's a longer chapter. Enjoy :) _

* * *

"Sorry I missed you the other night."

I look over at Robin. It's sunny out, so sunny that both of us are wearing sunglasses. My chunky white ones are more stylish than sun-excluding. Robin and I are heading to the park to meet Bailey for lunch.

"Huh?" I look at Robin confused.

"At the apartment," she says clearly. "Spencer told me you were over a couple nights ago."

I nod my head. "Oooh, yeah."

"What'd you guys do?"

I shrug before I turn my head back to her. "Just hung out, listened to some music, you know."

"That's interesting." Robin brings her pointer finger and thumb to her chin, scratching her imaginary mustache. I start to giggle at her, and she pushes my shoulder so I fall out of step with her for a moment. "No," she laughs. "Just because Spencer doesn't really do that with a lot of people."

"I find that hard to believe," I say honestly. "She talks a lot."

"True, but Spencer is very picky when it comes to actually spending time with people."

I think about this for a second. If this is true, then why would Spencer even want to hang out with me in the first place? I dismiss this question, though. Because we had a good time, at least I know I did

"So where were you that night?" I ask Robin as we take a seat on a stone bench right outside of the park. Robin shrugs, but she has this weird, mischievous smile on her face. Her eyes are dropped down, watching her thumbs twiddle. "Robiiiiiin," I sing with a laugh. He entire demeanor is screaming that she wants to tell me. "You were gettin' laid, my red-head friend."

Robin chuckles. "There are truth in those words."

I nod. "Anyone I know?"

"Not yet," Robin says. "I might bring her to the next party that Aiden and Court have. Which, by the way, is probably going to be in a couple weekends or so."

"Alright." I pause. "Is she hot?"

"Smokin'" Robin says seriously, and then she does that little _slap the ass_ action.

I shake my head and laugh. "You're a loser."

"Whatever. How's Bailey?"

Because we are right in the entrance to the park, there are trees giving a slight shade to our area. The sun is filtering through them, so there are these rays of sunshine crossing over my legs and body. I admire it, and I admire Philadelphia itself for a moment. I brush my bangs slightly out of my face.

"She's really good," I tell Robin with a smile.

She leans back on the bench, legs outstretched and crossed over one another. "You two are cute together. Actually you're gorgeous together, 'cause you're both," she looks at me, "ya know."

Just then, I see Bailey walking towards us. She holds up a hand to wave, and smiles a little bit. It definitely looks like she's coming from work, because she's wearing these tight cream slack-like pants with creases in them, and black button-down shirt with a collar. Also, I notice she's wearing heels, making her taller than normal. Obviously.

When she reaches Robin and me, I stand up to give her a kiss on the cheek. Robin gives her a short hug and a _hello_.

"What's up guys?" Bailey asks as he takes a seat next me on the bench. She leans over so she can talk to Robin too, and I put my hand on the small of her back instinctively. I see Bailey give me a wink.

"Any place in particular you wanna eat?" Robin asks Bailey, squinting her eyes because of the glowing sun.

Bailey makes this humming sounds, which I can feel reverberating down her back where my hand is. "I could go for sushi?" She turns to me. "You like sushi?"

I nod. "Love it."

The three of us make our way out of the park and down the street. There is this place, supposedly, that Robin says is really good. Robin is the one doing most of the talking, while Bailey and I walk hand in hand beside her. We keep giving each other these glances, and I kind of really want to kiss her. So I do, right before we enter the sushi place, I tug on her hand so she falls back into me. And I connect her lips to mine, gently, smiling playfully into a kiss that means nothing except the fact that I had wanted to do it. And she kisses me back probably because of the same reasons, because a spontaneous, sweet kiss in front of a small sushi lounge on the sidewalk, with one of my hands resting gently on her hip, is a good kiss.

Inside the dimly lit lounge, Bailey sits close to me in the booth, her shoulder and thigh against my own. Robin continues to talk.

"So, when are we going to meet his mystery girl?" Bailey asks her. Actually, interrupts Robin's rambling.

Robin shrugs. "Soon."

"Soon?"

Robin rolls her eyes. "Yes, _soon_. It's not a big deal, you know."

And I'm thinking that if Spencer were here, she'd have some smart-ass, funny tree-hugger remark to throw out there. Probably comparing Robin's insistence of 'not a big deal' to recycling. Being that it is a big deal. To her, anyway.

After lunch, Robin and I walk Bailey back to work.

"Wanna come over sometime this week?" I ask her as I lean against the outside of the building that her gallery is located in. "I'll make dinner."

"Oh, so you cook also?"

I give her a cute grin. "Mmhmm. It's how I woo girls."

Bailey chuckles, and pokes my stomach. "You're a charmer, Miss Davies."

"No argument there. So Thursday night?"

She nods. "Perfect."

---

I am walking back to my apartment, alone, because Robin decided she needed to go somewhere, or talk to someone, or something. She was being rather mysterious about it, but I didn't press her. Just as I reach the steps of the building, I see Spencer strolling leisurely down the sidewalk with a bag swinging from her hand. I stop and wait for her, she doesn't walk any faster. But she does give me a small wave and a smile. I smile back.

"Hey compadre," I say when she reaches me.

"Yo."

"Really?" I laugh out.

Spencer rolls her eyes. "Yeah, no. What's up?"

"Nothing, I was just with Robin and Bailey. I have no idea where Robin went, she was being all secretive."

"Probably to visit her lady friend. But I am under strict orders to not tell anyone about her."

I smirk. "Interesting. Not gunna give up the info?"

"Not to you."

I slam my hand against my heart and laugh. "Ouch. So, what about _your_ lady friend?"

Spencer raises an eyebrow in my direction. "Those are either words of mockery or an invasion into my love life."

"Oh, no." I wave my hands up in innocence. "I was just wondering, curious. I mean, we're friends, right?"

Spencer just looks at me and I see the hint of a smirk staring to spear on her lips. It makes her smile crooked, and I can't seem to stop staring at her lips. "Perhaps," is all she mumbles.

"That's all I get, is a perhaps?"

She shrugs, and takes a seat on the steps so I am left standing. Her blue eyes look up at me, sparkling. "You can…make a case for yourself, is you think it might help."

I smile, and shuffle my feet. They slide against the concrete, scratching and making an irritating sound. "Alright, alright. We were friendly when we first met."

Spencer rolls her eyes. "I don't think so."

"Fine." I scratch my head and think. "I went to your Environmental Coalition meeting. We hung out that one day in your room, listened to music. That sort of thing is a very friendly gesture."

Spencer nods. "You're right, those would be your strongest points here." She pauses. "Why _did_ you go to the Environmental Coalition?"

"Because, even though it may not seem like it, I am invested in the environment and this building's safety and needs."

"You're a fantastic bullshitter, I will give you that."

And she's right. I have no idea why I went to her stupid Environmental Coalition meeting. So I bullshitted an answer, because I sincerely had no real, true answer to give Spencer. At least not one that I knew of.

I chuckle. "So, friends?" I put my hand out for Spencer to shake. And it just hangs in the air for about ten seconds.

"Friends," Spencer says, and she connects her hand in mine. At the same time, her eyes connect to mine, and she's saying something. She's trying hard to tell me something but I just can't understand it.

---

Days later, I finally get a call back from all the resumés I had sent and handed out. It's from a little gallery not too far from my apartment. They call me in for a casual interview, just to talk about my past experiences and some thing son my resumé. Excited is an understatement.

Sitting around in my still-not-totally-decorated apartment was not what I had in mind. Of course, the free time is nice, I get to spend it meeting new people and making new friends. But I like to work. I like money, and I have no shame in saying that. I like having somewhere to go every day, knowing where you'll be going, what, in a sense, you'll be doing. It is a security.

This place has me even more excited because I looked into them on a whim, and immediately got excited. I know I'll be starting out probably just at the front desk. Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to get the job first. There is only a tiny slice of doubt in my mind, though.

The gallery itself is located right on a corner, with these bronze moldings trailing from the sidewalk all the way up the building. The windows make a sort of bay window-like appearance. When I enter, I smile.

"You must be Ashley Davies." A man, a very tall man, says just as I walk inside. He has on these small glasses which I so desperately want to call _spectacles_. He's wearing a sweater vest with a beige long-sleeved shirt underneath. His shoes make clicking noises against the shiny, hardwood floor as he walks over to me. They're brown, with no laces. But I can tell that they're of the fancy, foreign variety.

_Ding, ding, ding_. My gaydar goes crazy.

"Yes." I smile. "And you must be Dr. Steven Whitman."

The man nods. "I am. It's a pleasure to meet you Ashley. As you can see, we're kind of in the middle of switching exhibits so it's a bit of a mess in here. But, I'd love to first show you around and then just talk." He smiles at me, and something about his voice is incredibly soothing.

I love this man already. I guess to myself that he is probably in his mid-forties, although he could pass as younger. He has those crinkles around his eyes that handsome movie stars like George Clooney have. Dr. Steven Whitman's hair is dark, but intermixed with that there are some spottings of grey and white, giving him a salt-and-pepper look.

"So, what do you think?" Dr. Steven Whitman sits down on a rolling chair behind a desk. We have retreated to the back of the gallery to speak. He folds his hands together and brings them up to his chin, awaiting my answer.

"It's fantastic. It's exactly what I'm interested in, and the fact that it's an artist-run gallery is the reason why I was so interested in the first place."

Dr. Steven Whitman smiles and claps his hands together excitedly. "Perfect! Listen, Ashley, we're really just looking for somebody for behind the desk. You know, answer phones, write things down in pencil, erase the pencil, the shebang like that. But what I'm thinking is after some time, if things work out, we're going to need someone to plan for us, to…to, you know, _make things happen_. That's what we're about, making things happen."

"Dr. Whitman, I'm in love at first sight with this gallery, if you gave me the opportunity I think I could do some really great things." I say this all so excitedly, I'm basically jumping out of my seat. I don't even know if he understood what I said because I spit it all out of my mouth at the same time.

Dr. Steven Whitman chuckles heartily. "Please, Ashley, call me Steve." He holds his hand out to me with a wide grin. "Welcome."

---

The second I get outside onto the sidewalk, I jump up and down with my eyes closed and yell like an excited twelve year old girl getting a real, live pony for her birthday.

Sorry little girl, this job is _so_ much better than a pony.

Then I hear a knock on the glass behind me and see Steve smiling and waving at me. My entire face goes red. I give him a short wave, duck my head, and walk away as fast as I can.

"_Fuck_," I say to myself and end up giggling.

I pull out my phone and dial the first person that comes to my head without even thinking.

"_Yello_." I hear Spencer's voice say through my cell phone.

"I got it! I got the job!"

I hear a chair knock over in the background. "No way! Congratulations Ashley!" Spencer sounds just as excited as I am and by her shortness and weirdness of breath, I _know_ she's jumping up and down.

"You're jumping up and down, aren't you?" I ask her as I walk down the sidewalk in the direction of my apartment.

"Uh, no." Her voice becomes steadier. But then she coughs. "No, that's just silly."

I had told Spencer all about my interview and interest in the job the night before in the laundry room. I met her down there. She was washing what looked like a hundred and one t-shirts. When I walked in, she had jumped from leaning against one of the dryers, a book in her hand. I ended up telling her about how nervous I was, and about how much I wanted this job. So, she knew how excited I was.

"Alright, well. I'll talk to you later Spencer," I say into my cell phone right before I close it.

When I get back to my apartment, it's pretty much dead. I kind of expected Spencer to be in the hallway, hanging up flyers, or checking on the recycling, or putting more recycling bins out. But she's not, and it's totally quiet.

Just as I am about to get changed, I hear a knock at my door.

"Hey," Robin says with a wide, weird smile on her face.

"Hey Robin," I say cautiously. She looks overexcited.

"Congratulations on the job, Spencer told me about it."

I smile at her. "Thanks buddy."

"Come over for a minute, I wanna hear about it."

I nod, and follow her across and down the hall. She opens her apartment door and the room goes from being dark black to bright, noisy, and colorful. A group of people yell _Congratulations!_ I slam my hand to my chest and feel my heart almost crack through my rib cage and fly out.

In front of me are Robin, Spencer, Bailey, Aiden, Court, and his boyfriend Blake. Bailey is holding up a sign that says congratulations on it. After they all stop yelling, I start to laugh.

"Guys," I say after I have thanked each and every one of them. "You didn't have to do this, you're too nice."

"You deserve it," Aiden says happily as he pours some kind of alcohol into champagne glasses.

Bailey gives me a soft kiss to my cheek. "Thank Spencer though, it was her idea."

Somehow, I knew it all along that this was Spencer's doing. Over the top and completely sweet. My eyes connect with hers, there's a smile on her face but I can see it best in her pretty blue eyes.

"Thank you Spencer," I tell her as I walk over.

She shrugs. "No big deal, I had some environmentally conscious balloons left over from a recycling party a while ago. But, congratulations!"

She moves towards me and I go to hug her. But I stop short, right before we make contact. "You realize, this is our first friendship hug. Are you ready?"

Spencer smirks, but it's more of a happy look on her face. "Hmm, I'm ready."

And we have our first friendship hug. And it's perfect.

---


	7. chapter seven

It might be dark and seemingly quiet outside, but Robin and Spencer's apartment is still going strong with the small group that was here earlier. I'm enjoying myself immensely, talking to Robin and Bailey and Aiden and everyone else. Countless bottles of champagne have been consumed, but no one is drunk. Just happily tipsy.

"And so I said 'sweetheart, you better not be cutting me in line.' He turned around, showed me his pearly whites and that was that. I'd let him get ahead of me any day with that smile." Court is telling the story of how he and Blake met.

Blake is somewhat quieter than Court. But you can feel the love between them nonetheless. "He was pretty brutal," Blake says, smiling at his boyfriend. "But the second I saw him, I was like _damn_. All I had to do was smile."

Court shakes his head, but smirks. "You get away with that way too much babe."

Blake's got these piercing blue eyes that compliment his reddish hair quite well. They kind of remind me of Spencer's eyes.

"How long have you guys been together?" I ask, looking between Court and Blake.

Court looks at Blake and smiles sweetly. "About a year and a half or so."

"Yeah," Blake adds. "Court may seem a little intense but he's really just mushy at heart." Blake kisses Court on the cheek after he's done.

"Get a room," Aiden laughs out, shaking his head.

"We will," Court tells Aiden. "Maybe your room."

"Ugh, please. Not again." Aiden looks at me and frowns. "It's happened more than once."

"I believe it." I chuckle.

Bailey has been by my side most of the night, but now she seems to have disappeared. Actually, I see her talking to Robin across the room. My eyes wander around and settle on the balloons, which seem to be dying a little bit.

"Oh, the balloons," I mumble to myself.

"Oh no, Ashley, don't tell Spencer." Aiden kind of laughs when he says this. But he's completely serious.

"What? Why not?"

"Because, then there's the whole funeral for them, and it's just a mess. Seriously."

"What's a mess?" Spencer asks as she stands next at me, looking at Aiden. She has this giant chocolate chip cookie in her hand.

Aiden just looks at her. "Your hair, Spence."

Spencer makes a scoffing sound. "Please, faux hawks are so yesterday, douchebag. Go lift some weights."

"Ain't she sweet?" Aiden chuckles, putting his arm around Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer turns her attention towards me. "When do you start?"

"Monday, I think," I say, taking the last sip of my champagne. "Steve said he'd call me with details." I pause and listen to the light music playing in the background. "Elvis."

Spencer nods. "I changed it when I thought no one would notice."

"Good choice." We share a secret smile. Spencer's cheeks are a little red, probably from all the champagne. Her smile is lazy, but cute. She looks a little tired, and I briefly wonder what it would be like to take a nap with her. Then I furrow my eyebrows.

I go to take a seat on the couch, and it feels extremely comfortable when my backs hits the cushions. I sigh out loud. Then I feel a body sit down next to me, close to me.

"Hey there," Bailey says, a small smile on her face.

Instinctively, I rest my arm on the back of the couch, behind her. "Hey yourself," I say back, and give her a kiss on the cheek.

Her caramel eyes look bright and happy, but her demeanor shows that she's tired. Bailey puts her hand on my knee, scratching it slightly with her fingers, and leans back.

"Look at you two there," Court says in an overly dramatic voice. "You're cute. It's disgusting."

"Look who's talking," Bailey shoots back with a laugh.

Court rolls his eyes and sits on the ledge of the coffee table, his legs crossed. "So what's the dealio, you two girlfriend girlfriend?"

I open my mouth, but look to Bailey. I'm not exactly sure what we're doing.

"Way to be nosy Court. We're," Bailey looks at me and smiles softly, kind of like a reassurance, "dating."

"Uh huh, uh huh." Court rolls his eyes and mutters something about _women_.

Everyone only stayed for a little longer. At the end of the night, I help Robin and Spencer clean everything up, and I thank Robin for having everyone over and thank Spencer for doing this for me.

"No, I'm just happy for you," Spencer says as I'm saying goodbye to her. "But I expect a surprise party thrown by you for myself sometime in the near future."

I laugh. "Yeah? Celebrating what?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Something exciting."

"Liiiike…grass?"

Spencer nods and speaks seriously. "Exactly."

When Robin comes over, I give her a hug goodbye. "I'll see you two tomorrow probably."

Me and Bailey make our way down the hall, our hands together. When we get to my door, I look at it and then back to Bailey. I bite my lip, and look back over to where Spencer and Robin's apartment door is closed shut. Spencer is probably putting on pajamas with trees all over them. Robin is probably still cleaning up, tying trash bags and wiping down tables and counters.

"What's on your mind there, pretty?" Bailey's voice interrupts my thinking, her hands go around my neck. She's close to me, and she kisses me softly on the lips.

I shrug. "Nothin'. Just tired."

She nods cutely. "Me too."

"Do you-" I look into her eyes, and I see her smiling at me. "Do you wanna stay over? It's late and I don't really want you walking back alone, or taking a cab, or something." I stop talking abruptly when Bailey puts a hand on my stomach.

She nods. "I'd like to."

So I take her hand and we both go into my apartment.

---

The next morning, I am saying goodbye to Bailey at my door. It's pretty early, and she's leaving because she has work. We pull away from each other, after we had been kissing for a while.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over," she says, her hand still on my shoulder.

I smile at her. "No problemo. I'll call you later."

Bailey nods, and I open the door and step out into the hallway with her. She kisses me, a short kiss, but just as she's pulling away, I hear a door opening and then close.

As Bailey walks down the hall to the exit, she gives Spencer, who had just come out of her apartment to put out some recycling, a small wave. I watch Bailey leave the floor and then turn to Spencer.

"Uh." I open my mouth but not a whole lot exits it. Spencer is just laying some newspaper in the bin and putting up a new flyer. Her back is to me, but I continue to talk because I feel this gigantic urge to explain myself. "I didn't want her walking home by herself. We didn't, um, you know, we didn't _do_ anything. we were tired and slep-"

Spencer turns around quickly and interrupts me. And I think there is a tiny, tiny smirk on her face. But I'm too busy rambling to fully notice. "Ashley, stop. One, I didn't ask you to explain anything to me. Two, the girl you're _dating_ slept over your apartment. Hello, that's normal, just so you know. Calm yourself down."

"Oh, yeah. Okay." Is all I say.

All of a sudden I am very aware that I'm wearing shorts and a black tank top. Spencer, though, has on loose sweatpants and a normal t-shirt. She even has her purse with her, and I realize she was most likely about to go somewhere.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask her randomly.

Spencer laughs. "Yes, in fact I was about to go get coffee. Perhaps a pastry of some sort." I just stare at her, no words coming out. I don't know why I'm just standing in front of her like an ass. Spencer sighs. "I'm leaving in five, go get dressed." Then she pushes me towards my apartment door.

After pulling on a pair of loose jeans and an old band t-shirt, I grab my scuffed up wallet and keys and meet Spencer outside. She's still in the hall, whistling as she continues to hang up more flyers. Intense, bright colors decorate the bulletin board, and it definitely reminds me of college.

"New flyers?" I ask her.

"Yeah, people seem to think that throwing bottles down the halls is a perfectly fine thing. I mean, recycle if you want to, no one's making you. But don't smash your glass beer bottle and then leave it in the middle of the hallway."

I shrug. "People are fuckers."

"Poetic." Spencer chuckles.

We make our way out of the building and down the street. It's still early, so it's a little chilly outside.

"I'm sorry about earlier, rambling on to you."

Spencer looks at me. "It's okay. Whatever you do, that's what you're doing. It's all good."

I open my mouth to say, once again, that I wasn't doing Bailey, but then I close it. Because she's right, I don't owe her any kind of explanation. Of anything. Even though I have this feeling like I should.

After ordering our drinks, Spencer and I find a table by the window to sit down at. I have a cup of black coffee in front of me with a doughnut and Spencer got some kind of exotic sounding and smelling tea and a muffin. What kind of muffin, I can't be sure.

"How can you drink black coffee?" She asks me as I sip form my cup.

"How can you drink weird tea?"

Spencer shrugs and takes a sip of her weird tea. It looks steaming hot and I'm wondering how she isn't burning her tongue and the back of her throat right now.

"So, Bailey, huh?" Spencer says casually.

And I grin. Because I knew a part of her was curious, she was being too…something to admit it. "Yeah," I answer. "Is it weird for you, to have her around a lot?"

Spencer shakes her head and kind of smiles. "No, Bailey was around way before you were ever here and after we broke up. I mean, Robin and her are really good friends, and she's friends with all my friends. I've gotten used to it. Things like this happen sometimes."

"True. She's a good girl." I look at Spencer and she raises an eyebrow at me. "…Is she not a good girl? Should I know something?" I laugh.

"No, no, she's a sweetheart. I know this, I went out with her, remember? Things just don't always work out."

I give her a confused smile. "That's it?"

"What?" Spencer chuckles and takes another sip of her tea.

"Nothing, that's just such a plain way to break up, _things didn't work out_."

"Oh. Were you looking for something more dramatic? Hmm, how 'bout this." Spencer taps her finger on the table for a moment and I just watch her with a smile on my face. "One day, I decided to go surprise her at her apartment. But little did I know, Bailey was sleeping with another girl! I walked in on them in a very heated position on her bed. I screamed and kicked, and Bailey begged for forgiveness. Words were exchanged, objects were thrown at heads, there was blood ever-"

"For real?" I ask Spencer with my eyes wide.

She laughs hard and almost chokes on her weird tea. "No, fool. Maybe that might have happened if we were in a cheesy romance novel. We just didn't fit, plain and simple."

I nod and laugh a little. "Alright, alright."

Spencer and I sit in silence for a few moments. It's nice, not having to exchange any words. Comfortable. I watch her put her hair into a ponytail, using one hand. It goes up in a smooth motion, thick, blonde hair going through the green elastic band that had been around her wrist moments before. I am mesmerized by this simple but delicate action.

"What?" Spencer asks me after taking another sip of her weird tea.

I shrug, and pick up my half-full cup of dark coffee. "Nothing." I tap my foot on the ground and look out the window.

"So, is your hair just naturally curly like that?"

My eyes dart back to Spencer's blue ones. She has a hand resting on her cheek, elbow on the table keeping it up. She looks quite adorably confused. I smile when I answer her. "Yeah."

---


	8. chapter eight

"Dumped you?"

Robin sighs and leans back into her worn, comfortable couch. Her legs are up on the coffee table in front of us and one of her plaid-socked feet is dangerously close to knocking over a cup of iced tea. She is drumming her hands rather roughly on the cushions of the couch.

"I mean, I was gunna dump her first. I was about to do it." Robin looks at me and rolls her eyes at her obvious lies. "That's false. Alright, we weren't officially together. But we were dating, kinda. I'm just pissed I got dumped, honestly."

"Well, why'd she do it?"

Robin shrugs, lifting the hood of her sweatshirt so it covers her head and almost all of her face. "She met someone else."

I lean back and stretch my arms over my head. A small yawn comes out of my mouth. "I'm sorry Robin. You'll find somebody. You're cute and friendly and stuff. Don't worry about it."

She chuckles. "Thanks for the warm sentiments."

Just then, Robin's apartment door bursts open, and Spencer walks in carrying four grocery bags and wearing a trucker hat with Tony the Tiger plastered on the front.

"Well look at you all cute with Tony on your hat," I say as I watch her walk past me and Robin on the couch.

"At least you're starting to say things after you check me out now."

I shrug. "What's with the bags, Spence?"

"I went grocery shopping." Spencer puts her bags down and makes her way over to the couch, plopping down next to Robin. She puts her arm around Robin's shoulder and gives her a sweet kiss to the head. "How you doin' champ?"

"Eh." Robin lays her head on Spencer's shoulder and I smile at them. "It's whatever. Now I don't have a date to Aiden's party."

Spencer snorts in laughter. "It's not an eighth grade dance, Rob."

The more and more I start to hang out with Spencer and Robin, in their apartment, the more I start to feel at home. It's probably because I'm biased towards the first friends I made in a new city. And if so, that's fine. But something in the pit of stomach tells me that I got lucky with these two. With everyone, really. The more time I spend with Spencer, the more I find myself enjoying her company, craving her company. The more I see her the more I want to see her.

Whenever I am out in the hall, coming or going, there is a part of me that looks for Spencer. To see if she is outside doing something, anything.

And the more time I spend around her and with her, the more attracted to her I find myself. Not the attraction you have when someone is just pretty or hot or beautiful. Because Spencer is those things, for sure. What is important is that it is the other kind of attraction. The attraction to the person themselves, when you start to notice their different smiles and laughs. The opposite from just wanting to get them in bed. Where you really w-

"You wanna stay for dinner? Ashley?" I hear Spencer asking and saying my name.

I turn my head to look at her. "Yeah, that sounds good."

During dinner, I find myself eating some sort of casserole. It's incredibly delicious. I had tried to help Spencer but she wouldn't let me. To her advantage, I did almost set something on fire the first time I tried to help her. After that, she banned me from touching anything.

I was just trying to be helpful, but according to Spencer, I was a _disaster_.

"I hope you're not like this in bed," Spencer had chuckled and said when I dropped a slippery spoon onto the floor.

My jaw had dropped. "Wouldn't you like to know," I managed to answer her.

Spencer winked at me.

After dinner, I retreat to my own apartment. It's coming together pretty well. There are only some randomly scattered boxes filled with things left. Most of them have been emptied and put away. My kitchen actually has food now. There is milk, orange juice, butter, bagels, cheese, and all sorts of things in there. My large appliance is finally doing it's job.

It's later, and I am cozily curled up on my couch watching the real housewives of someplace bicker and argue. I almost don't want to get up when I hear a knock at my door. But then I think it might be Spencer or an emergency or something like that. I groan loudly as I make my way to the door and open it.

"Hey-" I stop when I see who's there and a large smile erupts onto my face.

"Speechless? I know, I tend to do that."

"Kyla, what are you doing here you lovely girl?" I ask as I envelope my half-sister into a tight hug. She has five bags. No joke, five bags, and they are not small. She jumps up and down like a giddy little child that's had too many pixie stix. My eyes scan over her bags once again and I frown. "Oh no…"

"Yup, broke up again. Apparently she thinks I'm a drama queen."

"That may be harsh but not far from the truth," I tell her as I close my door and help her bring in some bags.

"I know," Kyla sighs and takes a seat on my couch. "I just thought, you know, why not surprise Ash for bit. And then I could get away from that bitch."

I nod my head and smile. "I'm glad you came."

"You can kick me out whenever you want, I promise." Kyla chuckles and leans back on my couch, closing her eyes softly.

Kyla is like that best friend you always wanted. And more importantly, Kyla is like that best friend that you always _needed_. She tells you the honest truth when you go shopping. I can remember numerous occasion when she'd tell me how large certain pants made my ass look. Some people don't like that honesty, but that's a true friend. Plus she is my younger half-sister. Just because we didn't grow up together doesn't mean that I didn't get that chance to be protective.

Like with her recent ex, Cassie. Kyla has had a number of different girlfriends and boyfriends over the past years, but none compare to Cassie. She's a queen bitch, manipulating, fake, and selfish.

"So, no more Cassie?" I ask casually.

Kyla rolls her eyes at me. "Please, I know you're excited. We'll see. This happens a lot."

"Ugh," I sigh, "I know, I know."

"I'm excited to meet your friends, and your girlfriend-"

"Bailey's not my girlfriend," I correct Kyla quickly. Maybe too quickly for a normal human being.

"Alright," she says. "Simmer."

Kyla and I lounge around my apartment for the rest of the night. We drink cold Coronas and eat chips and salsa and gossip and do all those fun things you can enjoy with your sister. Kyla's surprise appearance reminds me of how much I missed her. Kyla is a reminder, actually, of home. A place I left many, many years ago. As soon as I turned eighteen and got accepted into college, I bolted, straying from the life I so desperately did not want.

I didn't want the prime of my life to be seventeen years old, sitting on the back of a police car, bombed out of my mind, bitching at the officer who was so graciously not shooting me with the gun fastened in his holster. The L.A. scene was a place I successfully escaped, but with bruises.

"You been by mom and dad's lately?" I ask Kyla. It's late, and we're both sprawled out on my large couch.

She shrugs, but I see her eyes dart to me. "Maybe about six months ago." She pauses. "Aunt Macy says hello though."

I smile at her. "Yeah? That's good. I just talked to her a few days ago."

Aunt Macy had basically raised both me and Kyla. She was, in my mind, the one person in this world that I could rely on, trust. Although I had only moved into her house at the young age of sixteen, she was and is more of a mother than anyone could ever be to me. Even when my parents had been alive, there wasn't much 'parenting' going on there.

Kyla accompanies me into the hallway to bring the recycling out, and as I am dumping some newspapers into the bin, I hear Kyla speak.

"Hi."

When I look up, I see Spencer standing next to my sister.

"Hey," Spencer says uneasily, then her eyes find me.

"Oh, Spencer, this is my sister Kyla, Kyla, Spencer. Spencer lives down the hall."

Kyla smiles, and I know the look on her face immediately. It's a flirtatious smile. Spencer and Kyla shake hands.

"It's nice to meet you," Kyla says. "You must be the Spencer that Ash has become such good friends with."

I feel heat rise up to my face. And I see Spencer smirk at me.

"You could say that," Spencer says, her eyes are still on me though. "I live with my friend Robin down the hall. Hey, you should come with Ashley to our friends Aiden and Court's party tomorrow night."

"I already invited her," I spit back to Spencer, trying to prove a point. What point, I'm not sure.

Spencer raises her eyebrow at me. She says good night to both me and Kyla and retreats back into her apartment.

"Mmm." Kyla makes an obnoxiously sexual noise as we go back into my apartment. "Bailey must be something if you haven't tapped that yet."

"Kyla!" I exclaim, laughing slightly. "I thought blondes weren't your type."

She shrugs and takes a seat back on the couch. "They're not. But I can still appreciate. Chill out, I'll only harmlessly flirt with you little crush."

"I don't have a crush on her," I assert, kind of like a kid does when they say they didn't do anything wrong. When their parents know for a fact that they broke the garage window.

"Okay."

"I don't," I mumble again.

And Kyla smiles at me, like the parent that knows their child broke the window. They're just choosing to let it go. This time.

---

Kyla and I do mundane things the next day before Court and Aiden's party. I had made her a bed on the couch and she seemed perfectly fine with it. The comforter that she curled up in was my old one from high school, a blanket with orange, white, blue, yellow, and other random colored stripes. Kyla said it was extremely comfortable.

I spend my day at work, getting used to all of the new things I am being exposed to. Dr. Steven Whitman, who insists I call him Steve many times, is more than helpful. My first couple of days consisted of taking phone calls, jotting things down on a notepad as I followed Steve and numerous other people around.

So when I get home, I'm a little tired, but in an excited way. I'm hyped up about my job, and looking forward to Court and Aiden's party. There is this small bundle of nerves in me about bringing Kyla. It's not for bad reasons, it's just…there.

"Jesus, Ky. Are you almost ready?" I shout towards the bathroom door. I can hear her humming, probably straightening her hair or something. Kyla always takes a lifetime getting ready to go places. Any place. Parties. Doctor's appointments. The grocery store. The post office.

"In a second!"

I walk in small circles in front of my apartment door, flipping my keys back and forth in my hand. I glace a look at myself in the mirror that is hanging above a small table next to the door. My hair is extra curly today, hanging loosely around my face and down to my shoulders. The blonde strip in my bangs is beginning to fade, and I wonder quickly of I should re-dye it soon.

My plaid button-up shirt has this green in it that reminds me of the Lucky Charms leprechaun. I shrug at myself, adjusting my color

"Alright, let's go," Kyla says from behind me. My eyes glance at her in the mirror, and I smirk.

"Oh, I didn't know you were gunna work the corner after the party."

Kyla gives me the finger and punches my shoulder harder than expected as she walks past me. "Shut up."

"Just kidding. Who are you all dressed up for?" I ask her. Kyla is wearing a short black dress.

She shrugs as we exit the apartment and I turn to lock the door. "No one in particular."

When we get there, there are a lot more people inside the apartment than last time. It's much more crowded, making it difficult to maneuver ourselves around dancing, making out, wobbling bodies. The music is louder, the smell of weed is heightened, and the drunkenness is much more apparent.

I look over at Kyla and see her smiling happily and already bobbing her head and half-dancing to the bass-heavy music flowing like maple syrup through the place. Most of the other people around me I do not recognize. I scan the crowd for a familiar face, and I find it in Aiden.

Kyla is the most outgoing, people-person there is. I introduce her to Aiden and Court and Blake easily.

About twenty minutes later a I feel a tap on my shoulder and see Robin smiling at me. I give her a hug and a kiss to the cheek.

"Ash, hey," she says easily. "I was afraid I wouldn't find you in this mess."

"Yeah," Aiden adds, looking around. "There's a couple more people here than I had expected." His eyes squint at Court who is busying pretending to ignore his roommate.

I feel a presence at my side and Kyla is standing next to me. "Hey, I'm Kyla." Kyla's eyes are transfixed on Robin. I see her scan Robin up and down slowly, so I know it's not cursory.

"You must be Ashley's sister." Robin smiles at Kyla, and they shake hands, holding on to each other for a bit longer than is normal. "I'm Robin."

Kyla nods and her eyes blink. She suddenly has this shy demeanor to her, one that I have never seen before. "That's me. It's really nice to meet you."

"Why don't you come to the kitchen with me, there's drinks in there." Robin offers, smiling sweetly at my sister. Kyla just nods and follows Robin closely.

Just as they're leaving Spencer shows at up my side. "What's that?" Her eyebrow is arched, and she glances from Robin and Kyla then back to me.

"Kyla and Robin," I say slowly. I turn to look at Spencer, and I see her eyes dart to mine. It looked like they had been somewhere else.

"You look cute," she says with a small smile.

I blink at her and bite my lip gently. "So do you Spence." My eyes scan her, from her tight, dark jeans to her royal blue polo. She has on this brown belt with a buckle in the front, which can be seen because her polo just ends where her denim begins. "So what's up with all the people?"

Spencer shrugs, taking a sip from a beer bottle. "Apparently Court invited a lot of people that he and Blake know. I have no idea who half of them are. But it's like every gay model on mother Earth is here, in this room, smoking weed."

"Yeah, it's _great_," Aiden says as he puts an arm around me and takes a sip from a red, plastic cup.

"Don't you have any straight friends?" I ask him and chuckle, patting his back slightly.

"Of course. I just like you guys better." He contemplates this for a second. "Well, what about your sister, Ash?" He looks over to the kitchen and rolls his eyes. "Nevermind."

My eyes go over to where he was looking, and I see Robin sitting on one of the counters, laughing pretty hard. Kyla is standing next to her, leaning against the counter to say something into Robin's ear with a sly smile on her face. I guess she got over her temporary shyness. Their interactions are so obviously flirtatious.

Aiden's voice brings me back to the people around me. "Where's Bailey?"

I open my mouth, but then close it. Somewhere between everything I had forgotten about Bailey. I hadn't even looked for her when I entered the apartment, although I do know she is coming later. "Coming later, I think," I say. I look at Aiden, and his eyes slowly drag from mine to Spencer who is next to me, looking somewhere else.

He shrugs, and then disappears into the crowd. Spencer and I proceed to go into the kitchen to find more drinks.

"You sister's nice," Robin says to me. I look around for Kyla but she's gone. I'm betting she's probably in the bathroom, checking if she looks alright.

I smirk at Robin. "And…"

"Hilarious."

"Aaaand…"

Robin makes a funny face but then smiles. "And fucking hot." She looks at me before stepping away into the living room. "Is that…okay?"

I consider this. Then I wink at Robin. "Have fun buddy."

She scampers off like an excited little girl. Like I just gave her a basket of candy.

"How do you feel about that?" Spencer asks me as she hands me an ice cold beer.

I take a long sip and look at her. "It's cool. Robin has become a really good friend of mine, so I'm gunna tell Kyla to not fuck with her. That's all."

Spencer smirks, and her eyes are connected to mine.

"What?" I chuckle nervously and ask.

"The big sister thing is pretty cute on you."

I roll my eyes, forcing the hotness I feel on my face and neck to go back where it came from. "That's twice you've called me cute tonight. In like a one hour span."

"Just telling the truth." She says. "I could call you ugly, if that would make you feel better or something." Spencer is smirking at me.

"Nah, I can stick with cute." I smile at her, a smile I wouldn't be able to hold back even if I wanted to.

We're flirting. We are _so_ flirting.

---


	9. chapter nine

It's getting late but I am not tired at all. And it seems like the other thousand and a half people still at the party aren't tired either.

I got a text from Bailey about an hour after Kyla and I had arrived telling me she wasn't going to make it to the party. Apparently it was one of her friend's from work birthday and they were going out. But she'd miss me. Smiley face. I smiled at the text, told her to have fun and that I'd call her sometime soon. I wasn't disappointed. I wasn't happy. I was just…fine. I wasn't sure that was the right reaction to have. But I just put it out of my head for the time being. I was having fun at the party, I didn't need to be thinking about anything else other than that. Right?

My night is being spent talking to Spencer and Aiden and watching Kyla and Robin flirt shamelessly. Spencer and I have been tracking their every move. From the kitchen to the dance floor. They haven't kissed yet, but they might as well be having sex while dancing in the living room. I retract that statement. They haven't kissed yet,_ that I know of._ They had made a trip to the bathroom about forty minutes ago.

I turn to Spencer standing next to me. I have no idea how many beers we've had. A lot. "Is this creepy, watching them?"

"Look they're moving to the couch!" Spencer practically whisper-screams into my ear, ignoring my comment.

And Robin and Kyla have moved to the couch. Robin has her arm outstretched on the back of it, behind Kyla's head. They're huddled close together. Talking, giggling, whispering, like school girls. There is a small pang in my heart that vibrates through me towards them. Jealousy. The green-eyed monster. And it's not jealousy in the way that I wish I were Kyla, wanting Robin. I don't. It's more general. It's that jealousy you feel when you see someone having something in general that you want. I want what they're sharing, I want what they're engaged in.

"Spence, I am _so_ not watching my sister make out with my friend," I tell her while turning away.

She glances back at me, looks back to the couch, then turns to me fully and sighs. "Yeah alright."

My eyes dart inadvertently back to the two girls on the couch. I guess I make a weird face because Spencer is staring at me.

"What's with you?"

I shrug. "Nothing."

"You're jealous?"

"No I'm not," I say too quickly.

"You're jealous," Spencer says evenly. "Do you like Robin?"

"Robin? No. I have Bailey, I like Bailey."

Spencer just keeps looking at me, her blue eyes piercing mine. Even though they're a little red and fuzzy, they're still gorgeous. We are locked into this eye staring contest. Everything just got more serious. A little too serious.

"You're lying," she says softly. It's not mean and it's not spit out at me in an angry way. "I can read people."

A catchy, popular pop slash rap slash hip-hop song starts to come through the speaks and echo through the house. "Come on," Spencer takes my hand, "I like this song. Let's dance."

So, we dance. We dance about a foot apart at first, enjoying the bounce and rhythm of the music. Then we move closer together. Because more people seem to start to dance. This must be a really popular song. What dancing song isn't, though? We also move closer together because that's what happens when you dance with someone you're attracted to. You can't stop it.

I need something to hold on to. And when I touch my hands gently to Spencer's hips, her eyes slowly come to meet my own brown ones. They watch me. She feels good under my hands, and she feels good this close to me. Her arms are now around my neck. I have no idea when they got there.

"So when are you going to stop lying?" And then Spencer ruins it. She totally ruins this…moment we were entangled in.

I give her a confused look, scrunching my eyebrows together. "What are you talking about?"

"Bailey. Why are you going out with her if you don't even like that much?"

"I like her well enough."

Spencer's eyes just keep watching me and they're making me nervous. They're making me hotter than I already am. "That doesn't make sense Ashley."

"Spence, stop," I sigh.

"But I just-"

"Stop." My hands are no longer on her now. We're not really dancing anymore. We're just kind of moving side to side, eventually the dance in us both fading out. Now we're just having this weird argument moment in the middle of a group of hot, dancing people. "I'm not lying, okay? Stop asking me so many fucking questions."

Her eyes squint at me. "You know what Ash, don't be mad at me because you obviously don't know what you want." She laughs weirdly. "Sorry I was interested in your well-being."

I blink my eyes, keeping them closed for a couple of moments. If I open them, I'm scared I won't be able to look anywhere but at Spencer's lips. My brain is telling me that I don't want that, but everything else in me is overriding it.

"It's none of your business," I say seriously.

And for a very short second, I think Spencer might slap me. But she doesn't. She just lets her eyes linger on mine, and then she walks away from me.

For the rest of the night, I don't seek out Spencer. I see her now and then, it being a small apartment and all, but all that happens is that her eyes meet mine and she looks away. I feel this bad feeling in my stomach, a combination of alcohol and shame. I try to take deep breaths so I won't puke it all up, all the alcohol and all the shame.

"You okay?" I hear Kyla say to me as I am sitting on the couch as the night is winding down.

I nod my head and the shake it, undecided. "Why are you gay?"

Kyla's eyes open wide. "Because…I fuckin' am. At least in this universe." I see her lips turn up into a small, devilish smile.

"I'm okay, I guess. How's Robin?"

And I see the giddy smile really take over Kyla's face, her eyes dart over to the side. To a place I can't see. "She's awesome. Adorable. Fantastic kisser."

I chuckle. "You be good to her, yeah?" I'm serious when I say it and I connect my eyes to Kyla's.

She nods. "Of course."

---

It's dark outside. It's a little chilly outside. I am the perfect definition of drunk. It's funny, though, how you can be drunk, having trouble walking, eyes blinking to gain clarity, but be able to think so clearly. I can feel my brain working normally, thinking things over. Maybe this is just what all drunk people think.

I walk down the sidewalk slowly, almost in a stroll. I don't care that some of the street lights are flickering. I don't care that I have an obvious frown on my face. My sweatshirt smells like beer and weed and…sweat.

Feeling some sense of relief, I take the steps up to my floor. My body starts to become tired and sore, my eyes are hurting inside their sockets, and I feel my brain start to stop working on thinking and shutting down for the night. I drag my feet towards my door and find a surprise outside of it.

I squint. "Spencer?"

Spencer is sitting cross-legged on the ground, to the side of my apartment door. Her head is in her hands, and it looks like she is dozing in and out of sleep. I realize it must be pretty late, probably three or four in the morning.

"Hey," she says in a low, tired voice.

She doesn't go to explain why she is sitting outside my door. I don't ask her why she is sitting outside. I just open the apartment door and let us both inside. I make my way into the kitchen while Spencer takes a seat on one of the stools.

Still in silence, I slide a water bottle over to her and lean my elbows on the cold, slightly sticky linoleum of my island. I remind myself to wipe down the counter at some point tomorrow. Or just rip out all that linoleum.

"Kyla and Robin went back to our apartment. I told them I'd give them some privacy," Spencer tells me, her eyes kind of wandering around the kitchen behind me.

I make a weird, scrunchy face. "Are they…"

Spencer shakes her head. "I don't think so. I left them just huddled on the couch together. They might be having one of those nights, stay-up-and-get-to-know-each-other nights." Her eyes finally meet mine. "I just figured…" Spencer doesn't finish her sentence, she just shrugs her shoulders and takes a long sip of the water bottle.

I nod, and watch her eyes watch me over the top of the bottle of water. "Yeah, it's cool."

Spencer and I make our way into the living room and onto the couch. We're both tired, but for some reason neither of us is mentioning going home or going to bed.

"Listen." I turn towards Spencer on the couch and tap my fingers on my jeans. "I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to…be a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

Spencer bites her lip briefly and I watch it happen. "It's okay. I guess your personal life and choices don't really have to be all my business. I just, you know-"

"I know. We're friends, I want us to talk and stuff," I tell her honestly. And I see a small smile on her face appear for the first time in a while. Having not seen it made me forget how much I missed it. How pretty it is on her face.

Spencer just nods and continues to smile at me. But she doesn't say anything, and I appreciate her waiting for me.

I lean back into the couch and tilt my head up. "You know that…feeling you're supposed to have right away with someone, that makes you want to keep seeing them? Besides from the physical stuff, there's that thing in your stomach."

"Yeah," Spencer answers slowly. "But I don't think it has to be right away."

I turn my head to look at her. She is now sitting sideways on the couch, facing me. "Really?"

"I think it can…develop. But there's gotta be _something_ there in the beginning."

"I just don't think it was there with her. And I don't think it developed, and I really don't think it's going to."

I sit up, facing Spencer on the couch. She has her chin resting in her hands, blue eyes focused on me, listening, observing. She looks cute. She looks more than cute. Her blonde hair looks beautiful and she looks like someone I want to kiss. She is someone I want to kiss. And for the first time in a while, I do not push that thought away. I want it there.

And then maybe I think I'm bad person. Why am I going out with Bailey if I know it's not going anywhere? Why would I lead her on like that? Maybe I just didn't mean to do it.

"How shitty am I?" I ask Spencer.

She smirks. "You're not shitty or…a bad person. Maybe you just didn't realize that Bailey's not what you want. You know, trial and error."

I shake my head and smile. "How do you know all this?"

Spencer chuckles. "I'm just naturally intelligent and charismatic. And also everything sounds good at four in the morning."

I laugh and look over at her. I'm laughing, but the way her eyes are watching me makes me nervous I might start to blush.

Soon after, Spencer decides to go back to her apartment. To go to sleep and to hopefully hear no noises coming from Robin's room.

"Good luck." I chuckle as I open the apartment door for her.

Spencer smiles at me and nods. "I'll just use headphones, no worries."

"Ew, I hope you don't have to."

We both hesitate for a short moment, a moment that seems to go in slow motion, spinning around the room, washing over every single thing inside it. Then Spencer hugs me, and I hug her back. The hug is softer, better, than the last time we hugged. And a little longer. My head lands in the crook of her shoulder and I sense my eyes starting to close. I feel Spencer's warm lips make contact with my cold cheek. It's over before it even started and it takes all of me to not shiver.

---

When Bailey opens her door, her face is pretty and smiling. But then she really looks at me, and my own face, and her smile drops a little bit.

"Bailey," I say softly. "We need to talk."

Bailey scratches her neck and motions for me to come inside. She doesn't look mad. She doesn't look too upset. She looks like she knows.

"I figured," she sighs.

---


	10. chapter ten

_I appreciate all the reviews, alerts, favorites, and reads. Thanks a bunch ;)_

* * *

"How was your weekend?"

I lift my head up from writing at the front desk. Today has been a boring day at work, I've been scribbling down dates and phone numbers and names. Plus it's absolutely gorgeous outside. I wish I were in a park somewhere, on a blanket, reading a book or flirting with Spencer or something along those lines. Something that makes my veins bubble over with enjoyment and loveliness.

"It was…alright," I tell Zooey.

Zooey Cantens is a girl I have been working with ever since I started at the gallery. She does miscellaneous jobs for Dr. Whitman, Steve, and seems to always be around, talking to artists, buyers, and random stragglers. Her official title position is unknown to me, but she has become one of the more interesting people I have had the pleasure of working with.

She is probably a couple of years older than me, and with very dark, long, slightly curly hair and bright, intense eyes. Zooey is definitely a sight for sore eyes. She is a classic beauty.

"I went to a party with some friends, nothing spectacular," I continue telling her. "Um, broke up with Bailey."

At this, Zooey gasps. She is, was, well aware of my budding romance with the gorgeous girl with caramel colored eyes. Bailey had come to visit me at work a few times and I had introduced the two.

"Oh no! That girl was adorable, and quite gorgeous, I might say. I'm sorry about that."

I shrug and set down my black-ink pen. "It was for the best, I think. I mean, I hope so."

Of course I had thought about my decision for a while. Before I went to Bailey's the other night and multiple times afterwards. But every time I saw Spencer, every time I talked to Spencer, I knew I had made the right decision. I want that ache, that need, that…_something_. And I can feel it becoming more and more apparent with Spencer. The only down side I could see was the new object of my affection not reciprocating.

"So what spurred this honey-buns? Things not going well?" Zooey takes a seat in a chair next to me and crosses her legs. She is wearing a long, flowy, flowery skirt. The flowers are purple and yellow and pink and for some reason the pattern is mesmerizing.

"No, they were fine, they were good. I just, you know…" I trial off because I'm not sure how to explain it. It's more of a feeling, not something that can be expressed verbally. "I think I'm feeling more for someone else."

Zooey smiles devilishly. "Oooh, intriguing."

"We'll see." I chuckle. "How was your weekend?"

Zooey nods enthusiastically. "Great! Jason and I went to New York City to visit his parents."

Jason is Zooey's fiancé. I've never met the guy, but I have a hunch that he's hot. For a couple of reason. One, Zooey is a knockout and I know appearances aren't everything, I guess, but the girl's gotta have a hot boyfriend. And two, Jason is a hot-guy name. It's a fact.

"That sounds exciting, I need to meet this Jason."

Zooey chuckles and flips her long bangs to the side of her head. She has a flower in her hair. She's that kind of girl that can pull it off. "Definitely. Hey, listen, you should come to our engagement party in a few weeks. You can bring the girl you've got your eye on." Zooey winks at me and laughs light-heartedly.

I blink and a smile most definitely plasters my face. The thought of asking Spencer to be my date to something, even if I do it informally, makes me a little giddy. And then nervousness invades the giddiness.

"Yeah?" I ask.

Zooey nods. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm sending out late invitations tomorrow, I'll give you a plus one."

"Thanks Zooey."

"Hello ladies," Steve says as he walks into the gallery. He's got on those same shoes he had on the day I met him, a tight mossy green turtleneck, and his _spectacles_. He is also carrying this bag he brings everywhere. It's worn and torn, the long strap looking like it could snap at any moment. I have an urge to call it a man-purse. A murse.

"Hey Steve." Zooey and I both greet him.

Having a boss who you actually like is a wonderful gift.

"What's the news?" He asks us.

Steve always asks us _What's the news_, it's like his way of saying _what's up_, and also, w_hy are you talking instead of working_.

"My engagement party. You coming?" Zooey asks him as she stands up from her chair and adjusts her skirt.

Steve nods while he sets down his man-purse. "I plan to. Darren just needs to take off work and we'll be all set."

Zooey claps her hands together excitedly. "Excellent. I haven't seen him in ages."

Darren is, of course, Steve's partner. They've been together almost fourteen years and I'm dying to meet the guy. I've only seen pictures and heard Steve talk about him non-stop, like a young boy having a crush, still after fourteen years. I admire that. Darren is a good looking man, he is shorter than Steve, although that's not saying much because Steve is one of the tallest people I know. In the pictures I've seen, Darren resembles a football player. Square jaw, muscles, well-built body.

Steve and Zooey go back into Steve's office to talk about an upcoming show and I go back to my phone-answering and jotting down important dates on the calendar.

"You know, they make notepads that are made of recycled paper. Perhaps you should invest in that."

I lift my head up to look at the person who was just talking. And I knew who it was before I even looked, there's no mistaking that voice, that snarky but fun tone in it.

"You _would_ know that, Spencer," I say as I chuckle.

Spencer smiles at me. She's wearing this loose, flowing shirt with thin straps and a light cardigan. Her hair has these curls in it, ones I've never seen.

"We thought we'd come visit you for a minute, see what this job is all about."

"We?" I ask. And then I see Kyla walk inside the gallery, huge purse swinging at her side, high heels clicking on the wooden floor. "Ky, how nice of you to stop by."

"Hey Ash," she says with a smile. Her eyes look around the gallery. "Wow, this place is cool."

"What are you two doing?" I raise my eyebrow at Spencer, who has leaned her elbows on the desk in the front of the gallery.

"Getting something to eat. I wanted to show Kyla this organic place down the street," Spencer tells me. "Their menus are made out of recycled paper."

"Fancy," I chuckle. "Where's Robin?" I direct my question towards Kyla. And her face brightens at just Robin's name.

"At work," she says, obviously disappointed.

"They've been like, disgustingly cute. I wear my headphones to bed every night."

I snort out some laughter but then give Spencer an apologetic smile when she squints her eyes at me.

"I'll just tell them to have sex on your couch from now on," she says angrily.

"Hello! And welcome." I hear Zooey's voice boom through the gallery as she makes her way to the front.

Spencer surveys Zooey and Kyla too-obviously checks her out. I hear a very small whistle come out of her mouth.

"Zooey, this is my friend Spencer, and my sister Kyla." I introduce them, and they all shake hands.

"Nice to meet you ladies. Thanks for stopping by." Zooey says this so happily. Her happiness is contagious, really.

"We just thought we'd say hello to Ashley before we went to lunch," Spencer tells Zooey.

I keep my eyes on Spencer and smile when she says my name. As my eyes continue to wash over her, I feel the smile on my face getting bigger.

"Well, you're welcome any time," Zooey says. I catch her eye, and I see that she was watching me look at Spencer. Zooey looks at Spencer and then back at me. A smile curls around her lips and I have a feeling she knows that Spencer is my someone else.

Maybe Spencer could be my someone else.

---

It's a little later in the week and we have decided to go to the bar. I think it's interesting when people use the phrase _to the bar_. Like there's just one bar, everyone is always going to this particular bar. It must be a good bar.

So we're going to the bar, Spencer, Kyla, Robin, Aiden, Court, Blake, and myself. I had called Bailey earlier in the day to invite her, but she had other plans. I want to be her friend, because she's a great girl and someone I'd like to keep in my life. I know she wasn't lying to me, because she sounded really disappointed she couldn't come. It's nice to end things on a positive note. And plus, I'm starting to call her friends my friends, so we should all just be friends.

"Do you think this is too slutty?"

I turn to look at Kyla. "Since when do you care if things are too slutty?"

She shrugs. "Since now. Is it?"

"No Ky, it's cute actually."

"Ugh, cute." Kyla makes a sound like I just called her a disgusting pig. She walks back into the bathroom to finish getting dressed, doing her hair, and her make up.

"Cute always works for me," I mumble to myself.

I did the intelligent thing by getting ready before Kyla even thought about getting ready. So I'm just waiting for her, sitting on my comfortable couch, flipping through channels of dogs, chefs, housewives, news reports, singing people, singing cats, singing babies.

There is a knock at my door and when I open it, Spencer is standing there with her hands on her hips and a frustrated expression in her face.

"What's wrong champ?" I chuckle and head into the kitchen, beckoning her to follow me. I get out my bottle of tequila for some pre-gaming.

"Your sister is driving me crazy."

"What?" I ask. "What'd Kyla do to you?"

"No, it's Robin."

I just look at her with a blank expression on my face. "You said Kyla…"

"Domino effect!" Spencer yells in an exasperated voice. "I've been helping Robin pick out an outfit for an hour because she wants to look good for Kyla. _Is this too slutty? Do you think Kyla would want to rip this off of me?_ Too much."

I laugh and pour Spencer and myself a shot. "Kyla's been the same. They really have a thing for each other, huh?" I meet Spencer's eyes and I seem them relax. She smiles a little bit and I smile back at her. She looks really cute, and I can't stop smiling at her.

"Yeah, seems like it."

Spencer and I clink our shot glasses together and then throw them back. There is a perfect technique for taking a shot of tequila, one that makes the liquid slide down your throat so smmothly you never even have to taste it. I have perfected this method over many years of practice.

"Are we meeting Court and Aiden there?" I ask Spencer as I pour two more shots for us.

Spencer nods, and we take the second shot. "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."

I flick my eyes to her and can't help the smirk that probably appears on my slightly warm face. "I always said one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, bed."

Spencer bites her lip. And it's incredibly sexy. "You presume a lot Miss Davies. Tequila does bad things."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

Spencer doesn't say anything, she just has this wicked smile on her face as she leans her elbows on the probably sticky linoleum of my kitchen counter and bends her head towards mine. She's close to me, and maybe it's the tequila, but I become short of breath. "You quote Shakespeare to all girls, or am I special?"

Her blue eyes are literally twinkling, and something about the black eyeliner she has on is making them pop. I resist my eyes from falling down to level with her pink lips, with the curves of her mouth, and the lines of her jaw. All smooth, all things I want to kiss. And I don't blame the tequila anymore. This is _all_ me.

"Special," I say quietly, right after I lick my lips as inconspicuously as possible.

"I'm ready!" Kyla exclaims.

Spencer breaks eye contact with me and brings herself back to the opposite side of the counter. I sigh quietly, close my eyes, and then open them up again.

"Finally," I chuckle.

Mr. Cuervo goes back into the cabinet and the three of us head out of the apartment. I glance at Spencer as I'm locking my apartment door. She doesn't smile, but her eyes say more than smiles or words could express.

---


	11. chapter eleven

_Sorry for the hiatus!_

* * *

The bar looks like an abandoned building from the outside. The street lights are dimmed, and the only indicator that there are actual real, live people in a mile vicinity is the large bouncer standing outside of the door with his arms crossed. His muscles are bulging gigantically out of his tight, dark blue shirt, inviting us all to the gun show. His blonde spiky hair is short, almost like an army cut, and as we approach, his eyes follow our every move.

"What are you doing here, Roger Clemens?" I chuckle as we walk towards him.

I feel a serious shove in my back and turn around to see Spencer with wide, angry eyes. "Are you serious Ash? You'll get your ass kicked for that around here."

I'm feeling those shots of tequila I did earlier pretty strongly. I feel the liquid almost as if it were flowing through my veins, making its burning path to my brain, to my eyes, to my throat. It is not pleasant.

"It'd be worse if we were in Boston," I mumble as we walk inside the bar, Court giving the bouncer a wink as he goes.

The inside is much more promising than the outside. There is a low glow of lights, a low pounding of bass, but not too high that it'll bust your eardrums. We are not in a club, and that is evident by the small number of people dancing. Most people are seated around and at the bar, talking, fighting, drinking, singing.

Something inside me clicks the second I reach the bar. I feel good. My body feels good, my eyes feel great, my hands are doing well. Maybe it's the tequila.

Always the tequila.

My eyes look over to where Spencer is standing, talking to Court, Aiden, and Blake. She looks just as sexy as she did in my kitchen, leaning over the counter, her mouth so very close to mine. She looks better in the dim, pulsing light, she looks better, pushing a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear in what seems like slow-motion.

Not always the tequila.

"And what are you staring at?" Kyla says to me as she slides over. She's grinning like a mad woman. When she looks over in Spencer's direction, she raises an eyebrow at me. "Figures."

"I just…" I trail off, not knowing what to say, not knowing exactly why I even started talking.

Kyla's eyes probe mine. "You just want her."

"I just want her," I repeat. There could never be a better phrase.

Now, Spencer is talking to the bartender. The bartender who is very obviously flirting with the blonde. She has on this tight little vest so her cleavage is practically popping out all over the damn place. Spencer is leaning across the bar, in which I hope is only a ploy to receive free or discounted drinks. Because she looks sexy, and I'm positive that bartender knows she looks sexy as well.

My eyes stay intently focused on Spencer until I feel a nudge to my elbow.

"Does she know the bartender or something?" I ask Robin, who is now at my side with a gin and tonic in her hand.

The red head nods and speaks only after she's taken a sip of her drink. "She fucked'er."

I blink. "What?"

"They had sex. I'm pretty sure it was a one time thing."

"Awesome," I mumble

I grab my beer and move over to the other side of the bar where Spencer and this stupid bartender womanizer are flirting.

"Hey." I smile at Spencer, ignoring the fact that she was just in the middle of talking to the bartender.

"I'll catch ya later, Spence," the bartender lady woman says to Spencer with a sweet smile. I glare at her as she moves to the other side of the bar.

Spencer turns towards me and raises an eyebrow. "Ashley, that was a little rude."

I shrug. "Sorry, was she important?"

I glance again at the bartender with her long, dark hair and tight vest and pants.

"Not particularly." Spencer takes a sip of her half empty beer. "How're those tequila shots treating you?'

I focus my eyes on her because they had just gone a little dizzy and crossed. "Perfect, thank you for inquiring." I think about getting Spencer another beer but then realize I would have to call over the bartender lady woman. I frown. "How are you?"

Spencer smiles at me, all shiny white teeth and cute little dimples. I really want to kiss her and whether I know it or not I have moved forward on the bar stool close to her. "I'm good. I'm…not a lightweight."

"Excuse me, are you calling me a lightweight?" I'm pretty sure I slur my words a little bit, but I'm grinning like crazy.

Spencer chuckles. "Yes, I am. Did you know that most of the bars and restaurant in the city now recycle all their bottles and caps?"

I roll my eyes. "I can't believe you're talking about recycling while I'm fl-"

"Guys, you have to come see this, Aiden says he's gunna re-create his twenty-first birthday and take twenty one shots," Court interrupts me with a goofy smile on his face, and he's giggling like a ten year old girl watching Miley Cyrus come out of an ice cube on stage at her concert.

I squint my eyes at him and head to the bathroom, but not before I curse him with impotency.

When I push through the doors of the very small bathroom, I grab ahold of the sides of a sink in the back and take a deep breath. My head hangs low before I bring it back up to look in the mirror. What is wrong with me? If I like a girl, I should just kiss her, right? Maybe I haven't thought this out well enough, maybe Spencer doesn't want me to kiss her. Maybe she's just engaging in this cutesy slash sexy banter for fun.

I try to fix my eyeliner because it's a little smudged, but my clumsy hands just make it worse.

"You okay?"

I turn to look at Robin leaning against one of the sinks. I didn't even hear her come inside.

"I didn't even hear you come in," I tell her. "I'm alright."

Robin shrugs and takes a look at herself in the large mirror in front of us. "I'm not too stealthy."

I look at Robin again, and she looks happy. Her and Kyla got together so easily. Something that pushes past my understanding.

"You sure you're okay, Ash? You look kind of…upset."

"Just drunk I guess," I mumble and muster up a small smile for her.

She nods. "It'll work itself out, don't worry."

When she leaves I'm left in the bathroom by myself. I didn't want some deep conversation in the bathroom of a bar about things. I push past the doors with force and back into the room. It's much darker than the bathroom and my eyes take a few seconds to adjust. Aiden, Court, and Blake are huddled together giggling stupidly. Kyla and Robin are making out rather heatedly against a wall and Spencer is talking to that bartender again. This time the bartender girl is touching Spencer's arm and Spencer is just smiling and not pushing her away, like I want her to. I have to work on my mind control, I guess.

I take two more shots and then I leave, giving everyone a short goodbye. I don't even think when I get in a taxi and tell the awkward man behind the steering wheel to take me somewhere that is not my home. Everything blurs past me as I look out of the window. My head is swirling and I feel myself slipping into that sad drunken state.

I inadvertently give the taxi man a very large tip and he winks at me as I get out of the car. I want to take it back.

My knuckles knock on the crappy wooden door and I stare at my hand until I hear the chain being unchained and the lock being unlocked. She looks surprised when she sees me, her pretty eyebrows bunched together, her brown eyes looking over my shoulder.

"Ashley?" Bailey questions, even though she knows it is, in fact, me. Sometimes we ask the questions we already know the answers to. No one knows why.

"Hey."

"Um, are you okay?"

I nod and bite my lip. I don't know what I'm doing here. She lets me inside and closes the door.

"Are you drunk?"

"Uh, possibly." I shuffle my feet.

"What are you doing here Ash?" Bailey has her hands on her hips and she looks a little angry.

"Shit Bailey, I'm sorry," I tell her hurriedly.

She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "It's okay. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

I shrug my shoulders and look at the carpet. "I dunno. I guess, I guess I just had a crappy night."

Bailey blinks and I can almost see her mind working. "I'm feeling like I should be really offended, but since you look like a complete mess and we are still friends, I'm gunna move past that. What's going on Ash?"

"I don't know, I just, felt like I needed to talk to someone or see someone or something. I didn't mean to come over here so late," I ramble stupidly.

"Shit happens." Bailey has a small, sad smile on her face. "You…obviously have someone on your mind." She pauses and studies me for a moment. "I'm sure Spencer will come around." My head jerks up and I squint my eyes at her. "Don't look so surprised," Bailey chuckles and shakes her head. "There's something, it's pretty noticeable."

"Is she good in bed?"

"Ashley!" Bailey yells, her eyes opening in surprise.

"I'm totally kidding, totally joking," I say quickly, raising my hands in surrender, in innocence.

Bailey rolls her eyes. "You've overstayed your welcome." 

I wake up with my head pounding off of my body and my eyes are hurting even though there is barely any sunlight in my room. I quickly look around the room, to make sure that I am in my own room, in my own apartment. I sigh contently when I realize I am alone. I have no idea what my thought process was on going to Bailey's last night.

I groan as I move out of my bed like an old woman, slip on my slippers, and basically stumble into the kitchen rubbing my eyes. It's bright, and there is a light chatter going on.

Kyla and Robin are giggling and smiling at each other over bowls of cereal and cups of coffee.

"What are you doing here so early?" I mumble towards them as I head straight towards the coffee. I can smell it and I need it in my veins.

"Early?" Kyla chuckles. "It's one thirty in the afternoon, Ash."

I shrug. "My bad. Why are you eating cereal then?"

"Because eating cereal is acceptable at any time of the day," Robin says matter-of-factly. "Where'd you disappear to last night? You left the bar quickly."

"Just home." There's no need to tell them I stopped at Bailey's.

"You look like shit," Kyla tells me seriously as she scoops some Lucky charms into her stupid mouth.

I take a seat at the counter and place my hand on the cold linoleum and sip my coffee. "So sweet of you to notice."

I hear a knock at my door and groan in anticipation of having to open it.

"Chill, I'll get it," Robin says with a smile on her face.

I silently thank her and my mind grants her good orgasms. Then I remember she's sleeping with my sister and I cringe and take it back. Hangovers are bad.

I barely notice anyone come into the kitchen, but when I look up, Robin has her hands on her hips and her eyebrow is raised like she's in a special episode of Law and Order. Bailey trails behind her.

"Heeey," I say slowly. "Bailey."

"Bailey wanted to come and make sure you were doing alright. My first thought, she has ESP?"

I glare at Robin, but smile at Bailey. "I'll be fine. Thank you. And, I'm sorry for being a tool."

Bailey shrugs and takes a seat next to Kyla. "No worries. You look like shit though."

I moan distraughtly. "Everyone is just so fucking kind in the morning."

Kyla coughs. "It's one thirty, actually, remember? So when you said _home_ you meant _Bailey's apartment_, right?"

"Oh," Bailey says, "Ashley just wasn't feeling good last night. No big deal." She winks at me and I smile appreciatively at her.

"Whatever," Kyla says. She kisses Robin sweetly. "I gotta go get my laundry. I'll be back."

"Oh good," I murmur. "Please, take your time."

I lay my head on the table and close my eyes. I feel a marshmallow hit my cheek.

"Thanks Robin." I pop the sweet treat into my mouth and then regret it. Pure sugar. "So, um, what happened with Spencer and the bartender girl." I scratch my neck innocently.

"She was definitely hitting on Spencer the whole time," Robin tells me. "I don't think she was into it this time though."

"So why wasn't I invited to this little kitchen…" I hear Spencer's voice speaking as she walks towards the kitchen. She trails off as her eyes scan over Bailey sitting at the table, eating cereal form the box. "Party," She ends quietly.

I open and close my mouth and Bailey looks a little nervous. "Hey, Spence," is all I say.

"Hey," she responds. "Hey Bailey. Robin."

"Cereal?" I ask her. Because that's all I can really think of saying right now. This is a bit awkward.

Spencer shrugs and pours some Lucky charms into her hand. "I hope you recycle this cardboard. You know cardboard is usually recycled separately but at the recycling center you can go bring it with paper and plastic and such."

"Right," Bailey says slowly and smirks. "I was actually leaving. I'll see you guys later, feel better Ash."

Spencer watches Bailey leave and then turns back to me and Robin. "What's wrong?"

I shrug. "Just drank too much, bad hangover."

"Obviously can't handle her tequila," Robin murmurs as she grabs a handful of cereal, crams it into her mouth, and then pours some milk from the container into her mouth. I just stare at her.

"Oh, is that why you left so early last night?" She asks me innocently, like she wasn't totally flirting with that bartender lady when I…when. Well, when I nothing. I blink and sigh, realizing that Spencer could do whatever. It's not like I made any move, all we were doing was flirting.

"Yeah. How was your bartender friend?" I say this more meanly than I really mean to.

"Uh, fine." Spencer glances at Robin.

"I'm gunna go find Kyla, that laundry is taking so long, I hope she didn't fall into the machine." Robin smiles at me and kisses the top of Spencer's head before she heads out.

I just look at Spencer. "Why was Bailey here?" She asks me.

"O-oh," I stutter, "she just wanted to make sure I was okay or whatever. I wasn't feeling good after the bar so I just went over there for a minute." I'm rambling and Spencer is just watching me. "Nothing happened. We just talked." Stop talking, stop talking. "And stuff. But not _actual_ stuff."

"Ashley stop." Spencer puts her hand up to silence me. "You can do whatever stuff you want." She gets up to leave and closes the cereal box. "I'm not into the bartender girl." Spencer says this as she walks away, out of the apartment.

Later, I am sitting on my couch flipping mindlessly through channels of television. I can't stay focused on one channel nor do I actually care what's on. I run a hand through my hair, and take a deep breath.

I walk out of my apartment and down the hallway, not even bothering to knock on the door in front of me, I just let myself inside. Robin and Kyla aren't there, but Spencer is sitting on her couch, with glasses on, knitting. I wanted to stay serious but as I keep moving towards her I let out a chuckle. Spencer looks up and she looks confused. But before she has a chance to say anything I bend down and kiss her.


	12. chapter twelve

And she's not surprised. The second my lips finally, finally meet her own, Spencer's hands come into contact with my neck and they wrap around the back of my head, pulling me closer.

I can barely breathe, but I don't want to stop kissing her. I take the smallest, heavy breath I can, making sure I don't get too far away from her. She smells delicious, she tastes amazing, all moan-worthy aspects of her I already knew about but never got to experience them first hand.

My body moves to be more easily accessible, on top of her. I didn't mean for this to be so intense but I just can't help it. I should have known.

My head it swirling, so differently from a hangover, and my heart is thudding intensely out of my chest, I can feel it banging against my ribs. I want every part of her all at the same time, when my lips move to her neck they go right back to her mouth, not knowing where to land. My hands are grabbing fistfuls of her shirt, pulling her impossibly closer to me.

I feel something sharp poke the side of my leg and I wince into Spencer's mouth, breaking contact for the first time in hours.

That's an exaggeration but that is what it feels like.

"Ow," I mumble quickly as my eyes flutter open and look down to my side. Her knitting needles.

Spencer looks down at the huge ball of brightly colored strings and the needle coming out of it, poking into my leg. I see a slight smile wash over her face and then it gets wider until she laughs lightly. Her sparkling blue eyes, which have darkened, meet my own and I know I have a dorky smile on my face.

"My needle is poking you," Spencer whispers seriously. She continues to keep eye contact while she throws the kitting supplies to the ground.

"'S okay," I tell her softly. Just being able to touch her like this, to look at her freely like this feels so damn good. My entire body feels prickly, from inside my stomach spreading outwards to every inch of my skin and insides.

I didn't really plan anything beyond kissing her.

"You kissed me," Spencer states, her eyes never faltering, her smile never faltering.

I nod. "I did that."

"Good."

It's a staring match, my eyes versus her entire body. My eyes wash over her plump, pink lips, jaw line down to her smooth neck which is slightly marked with little red molds of my lips. Her thin arms covered in barely there blonde hair, her eyebrows which aren't moving, her eyes, more blue than I've ever seen them and intently watching me watch her.

I feel her hand touch the soft inside of my forearm, two fingers smooth over my skin and I feel my heart rate increase and tingles follow Spencer's fingers. My eyes watch them move up and down, over and over again. Spencer's fingers end up on the pulse point of my wrist, and she's holding it so carefully, like I might break any second. I move my head closer to her once again and kiss her slower this time, take time to explore her mouth, feel what she feels like, taste what she tastes like. Kissing her is exactly how I thought it would be; beyond thought.

"So you want to stay for dinner, Ash?" I hear Robin's voice say. Spencer and I separate slowly and Robin is just standing there, bag in her hand, smirky smile on her face.

All I do is nod, and smile at her. Robin rolls her eyes and walks away from us.

"She's been calling it for weeks now," Spencer says to me. Her eyes blink and twinkle.

"Really? What do you think?"

Spencer smiles wider, full grin with teeth and all. "I've been calling it for weeks now as well."

"What about last night?"

Spencer sighs and looks up at the ceiling and then back to me. "I didn't want it to happen while you were drunk, while we were at a bar. That's just not how I roll."

I let out a girlish giggle by accident. "So…"

"So I waited. I had to let you come around. I've been around since we first met."

"But you hated me," I say seriously.

Spencer nods and chuckles. "I simultaneously hated you and formed a large crush on you the first time we met."

"So, what is this?"

"It's whatever you want it to be Ashley."

Again, I just nod, unable to wipe the smile off of my face or keep the heat from rising to my neck and to my face. I put my hand on the side of Spencer's face and pull her forward to meet my lips. I kiss her harder, letting my hand slide down to her neck, to her shoulder.

I'm a little nervous, so when we pull away for a moment, I giggle, again, and roll my eyes. I feel like I'm a teenager again, awkward yet excited, kissing the person I've wanted to kiss for what seemed like forever but was really only a couple of weeks. It doesn't make it any less extraordinary.

* * *

"And then she was like, if you're gunna take my favorite Coach purse then I'm going to break up with you again. And I was like, well I'm gunna smash all of your crystal ducks…"

I am in no way focused on Kyla's story because I have Spencer right next to me on my couch. Her head is stuffed into my shoulder and I can hear her muffled laughter at Kyla and her asinine-ness.

Robin has her eyes on the television, half listening to what Kyla is saying. She adds in a nod every now and then. And when Kyla glares at Robin, the red head just gives her a soft kiss and Kyla is no longer angry.

Dinner had proceeded as normal. Everything has proceeded as normal with the small exception that I could not keep the smile off of my face for more than ten seconds.

"Alright, we're gunna head out." Robin says.

"You guys going out somewhere?" I ask her as Kyla and Robin walk hand in hand towards my apartment door. Kyla looks at Robin and smirks in that stupid way that she does.

"Just down the street to get a drink. You guys wanna come?"

I look at Spencer and raise my eyebrow. Her eyes blink and slight smile crawls across her face.

"I think we're good, thanks though," I tell Robin and Kyla.

After those two have gone, I head back over to my couch. The couch in which Spencer is sitting on, her legs lazily stretched out and her head leant back against the cushions.

Spencer's eyes meet mine before she speaks. "You sure you didn't want to grab a beer or something? We can still catch up to them."

I bite my lip and try not to look down from her eyes to her lips, down her lips to her neck, down her neck, to her tight t-shirt, down her tight t-shirt to her chest. "I'm good right here."

"Good," Spencer says softly, "me too."

And that's when she leans in to kiss me, more softly than she has all day long. Her lips feel softer than the purest cotton handkerchief. I can barely breath out of my nose, everything feels so heavy, but in a good way. Unintentionally, my hands slide up and down her sides, pushing her back into the couch, her own hands drawing me possibly closer.

After what is probably the longest minute ever, I smile into her mouth. I don't mean to but I do, I smile, wide mouth, eyes crinkled, dimples, everything.

"Why are you so smiley?" Spencer chuckles, her mouth still touching mine. Her lips emit air as she talks that gives me shivers. I shrug and kiss her nose softly. I see Spencer's cheeks turn bright, bright red.

"What?"

"That was too fucking cute," she whispers. "Cuter than those little otters, when they go build houses out of wood and stuff, and they're just crawling around and sniffing, and then they dive into the water and they look kinda like greasy Italians but waaaaay cuter. You know?"

I open my mouth, and scrunch my eyebrows together. "Uh, yeah, what?"

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I turn my head to look at Zooey. I swivel my desk chair back and forth and back and forth and blink my eyelids. "Of course, why?"

She shrugs, and I see the corner of her mouth turn up. "You look at jittery. Either you're on some dope drugs or you're in love."

"Did you really just say _dope drugs_?"

She rolls her eyes. The flower in her long hair is purple today, and her earrings a Easter-yellow color to match. "Don't dodge," she answers.

"I just feel…restless."

Zooey's pants are a floral patter. On anyone else on the entire Earth, they would look ridiculously ugly. But they fit her and she just looks like a goddess. In my objective view, of course.

"Restless because you kissed a girl? I'm sure you kissed a lot of girls."

"Actually I haven't, to most people's surprise," Steve says as he walks into the studio. His bag with the worn strap is hanging in front of his baby blue turtleneck.

"But I thought you were a ladies man?" Zooey asks and then rolls her eyes.

"Don't you have work to do, Zooey?"

Zooey whisks herself away from the painting had been surveying. "You could say that. So, Ashley, are you going to bring this girl to my engagement party?" She flashes her large diamond in my face as she says this.

"If you weren't so gorgeous you'd be super obnoxious," I mumble as I write down some things in the calendar.

"What?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. We'll see how it goes."

Those are my words but there's a smile on my face. The idea of bringing Spencer somewhere as my official date makes my insides feel more fluttery than they had been before.

When I get back to my apartment there is an immediate smell of delicious food coming from the kitchen. And it scares me, because Kyla is the one standing there stirring something, probably something questionable, in a very large pot on the stove.

"Um, what are you doing?"

Kyla turns around quickly. Her hair looks all weird from the steam coming from the stove, plus she's wearing no make up at all. "I'm cooking," she says and then turns back around.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I put my bag and jacket down on the couch and move over to the kitchen to see what she's doing exactly. Inside the pot there is what looks like a big pile of mush. "What is that?"

Kyla shrugs. "I'm not too sure yet. What do you think?"

"I, what? You're the one cooking. Just don't burn my apartment down."

Before she has time to answer, I hear a knock at my door.

"Hey," Spencer says with a smile. She has on this bright purple hoodie with the hood up and grey sweatpants. She looks adorable.

"You're all dressed up," I laugh and then close the door behind her.

Spencer hits my shoulder, harder than I expected. But her large smile makes up for it. "How was work today?"

I bite my lip. "It was…long."

Spencer takes s step much closer to me, and her hand grabs the edge of my button-down shirt. She moves the material between her fingers while her eyes flick up and connect with mine. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says quietly. I can feel the air from her mouth hit my lips when she says this. Fuckin' sexy.

My brain feels fuzzy.

"You…hmmm." Those are the only things my voice lets out.

"That's not a real sentence Ash." Spencer smirks and kisses me lightly on the side of my mouth.

For a minute I find my senses and my hands find her waist. "Sweatpants mean sleepover, right?"

Spencer arches her eyebrow, kisses me one more time, and walks over to the kitchen where Kyla is still 'cooking'.

I take a seat at the island and place my chin in my hands.

"That looks uh, really good Kyla," Spencer says as she glances at me and makes a weird face. "You can use these organic herbs and spices I have in my apartment, they came from this farmer's market I found the other day."

Kyla just continues to stir her pot full of crap, ignoring Spencer's advice.

"Fine," Spencer pouts. "Serve us bowls of chemicals, see if I care." I smile at her and gesture for the pretty blonde to come sit on my lap so we can mock Kyla together.

I hear footsteps walk into the kitchen, and see Robin appear and lean against the island. She just stares at Spencer and I with a creepy smile on her face. "Hi you two."

Spencer rolls her eyes. "Hello Robin."

Robin keeps smiling and staring at us. "You guuuuuuys."

"Robin stop, you're freaking me out," I grunt towards her.

The red-head shrugs and kisses Kyla on the cheek. "So, you guys wanna order a pizza?"

* * *

"You can get these pillows that weren't processed so they don't have pesticides in them. And also, this Febreze isn't the best thing for the air. Ashley."

I open my eyes and peer over at Spencer. I am laying on my back on my bed, hands behind my head, and Spencer is pacing around, basically appraising my room. "Yeah, Spence."

"You're not listening." She moves over to the bed and sits on top of me. My body feels instantly warmer and my hands grab her sweatpants.

"Okay this is better, talk about the environment now."

Spencer smirks and leans down close to me, but she doesn't kiss me. I move my head up to reach her lips and they taste wonderful. And her tongue feels even better. Even makes me moan a little bit. It's impossible to stop it from coming out. I feel her push down lightly on my body.

"Shit Spencer." My words come out half a mumble and half a groan.

I feel her smile into my mouth, and I feel my hands move under her shirt and onto her soft stomach. I don't go anywhere else, I just scratch her stomach.

Spencer pulls away from my lips for a second and mumbles my name. Her blue eyes meet my brown ones for a very long minute. And I know we're both debating this in our heads. Washing our minds over consequences and temptations and eagerness and nervousness and lust.

But I can't help myself, so I kiss her. This seems to end that debate because I can think of nothing but having more of her. Spencer kisses my neck softly, and I can feel her heavy breaths on my hot skin. She stops for a moment and just looks at me, biting her lip and blinking heavily. Then she raises her arms up in the air slowly.

I feel like a greedy little kid wanting a million different things at the same time. I want her shirt off. I want her lips on me. I want her to press down harder. I want my hands to be able to make her moan and vice versa.

Her sweatshirt comes off easily and her thin t-shirt peels right off her body. My eyes reluctantly look up from her black bra to her eyes. And she kisses me again. And again and again.

Everything gets harder and everything gets more intense and everything is drawn out and faster. This is, right now, very much about lust. And nothing feels better than that, nothing could feel better than that at this moment. Just because lust is the main player doesn't mean the game could change at any time.

Actually, I expect it to.

* * *

Without my consent, my eyes open to a dull sunlit room and an aching in my body. My hair is a complete disaster and there is a slightly snoring Spencer lying right next to me. Her body is pressed against mine and keeping me warm. My eyes slowly run down her and a small smile creeps over my face.

I sit up in my bed and rub my face. This is a whole new kind of hangover.

"Bitch." Spencer says this with her eyes closed and turn to look at her. My eyes open wide and my eyebrows scrunch together. Then she opens her eyes and see me looking at her with a scared expression. "Oh, sorry, I thought you left."

I roll my eyes and let out a small laugh. "Yeah," I answer groggily. "Leaving you in my own apartment, that'd be smart."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

I give her a glare and then lie down facing her. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Besides your snoring? Perfectly. But don't worry, it was cute."

I absentmindedly slide my fingers against her stomach. Going from not being able to touch her like this to being able to is surprisingly easy. There is no thought process involved, I don't think about the change. It just happens. That doesn't mean it's not exciting though. Because it is. So exciting it makes my body erupt into little fireworks every time.

We eventually get up and make ourselves look socially acceptable. A couple of hours later Spencer leaves my apartment, although I try to tempt her with some healthy cupcakes. To my dismay, it doesn't work.

It is amazing to me how everything can look the same when something important has changed. My kitchen counter is still dirty and sticky. The dishes in my sink still need to be washed and the small light above my stove is still flickering. My coffee pot needs to be cleaned and the sugar I use to put inside my mug is the last from the small little frog-shaped ceramic container I keep it in. I have no clean spoons so a fork is the only thing I can find to stir my coffee.

The apartment is eerily quiet and I'm not sure what to do with myself. I could clean the kitchen, or go grocery shopping, or call someone to fix the sink that has been dripping for days.

Instead, I decide to go over to Aiden's apartment and sit on his couch.

"Are you really watching this?" I ask him as I take a seat on his comfortable leather couch. I stretch out and Aiden hands me a beer without tearing his eyes form the screen.

"Ssshhh, they're about to choose the apartment. I always watch HG-TV on Tuesdays," he says seriously. Then he glances at me. "Don't judge. So what's up? How's your lover?"

Since there is a commercial, Aiden angles his body towards me and smirks. His hair is sticking up all over the place and he has a grease stain on the shoulder of his shirt.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I take a sip of my beer and smile obnoxiously at him.

"Ya do it yet?"

"Aiden!" I hit him right in the chest as he starts laughing like an obnoxious douchebag. "You're a douche."

"You know you wanna tell me," he sings.

I roll my eyes. "Watch your stupid show."

"Hey." Aiden points a finger at me, a serious expression on his face. "House Hunters is _not_ a stupid show. Please respect it."

I give him the finger.

Aiden rolls his eyes. "So you miss her yet?"

"Psshh. Of course not." I fold my arms across my chest and look up at the ceiling. "Maybe just a little bit."

"You gunna see her tonight?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure. Should I call her? Should I just go over to her apartment? What's the etiquette here?"

"Geez Ashley, I always figured you were a smooth ladies-man or something. Get it together."

"I am- was." I look at Aiden. "But this is different. Usually I meet the girl, sleep with the girl. Say goodbye to the girl."

"Ah ha! So you did sleep with her."

I roll my eyes. "Obviously. Keep up meathead."

* * *

"Well hello there," I say in a deeper voice than is my own. I tip the black knit hat I'm wearing in Spencer's direction. "Did someone order flowers…they're organic."

Spencer has a huge smile on her gorgeous face and I can tell that she's trying to keep it back form getting wider. That makes me smile more.

"Ash," she breathes and takes the flowers from my hand.

"Don't mention it." I can feel my cheeks burning.

She pulls me inside and closes the door. I feel her lips hit mine and I smile into the kiss. I don't know if she drops the flower or puts them down but I notice they're gone when I feel her hands underneath my sweater and on my hips.

"Hi," I mumble.

"Hi."

She moves me backwards towards the couch and I feel the back of my knees hit the edge. I'm sitting and then she's sitting on top of me. Spencer's hands are moving from my neck to my shoulders to my hair and to my chest. I can barely keep up.

"I like this feisty Spencer," I murmur into her ear when her lips sidetrack to my neck.

"Mmm, she likes you too."


End file.
